


take me home, country roads

by vtforpedro



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Cowboy Original Percival Graves, Everyone Finds Healing, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Happy Credence Barebone, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Including a horse, Light Angst, Light Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, POV Credence Barebone, Period-Typical Homophobia, horse ranch, i said what i said
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 46,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25660084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtforpedro/pseuds/vtforpedro
Summary: In which Credence Barebone leaves New York behind to search for a place he belongs and may just find it on a ranch in the Blue Ridge Mountains of West Virginia.
Relationships: Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 63
Kudos: 122





	1. Chapter 1

Credence escapes Mary Lou Barebone in June of 1926.  
  
It had taken a couple of years of saving up money, hiding it away, paranoid that she might find it every day, before he had enough to leave. Enough to get on a train and go south. He doesn’t know why he chooses south, but it feels right.  
  
New Jersey is almost harsher than New York, but he finds work in a factory for six months. The man who owns it lets him sleep in an abandoned office for less wages but eventually Credence makes a mistake, as he always seems to, and he’s told to find somewhere else to go.  
  
When winter finally starts melting into spring, he leaves New Jersey, with some money in his pocket and only more bad memories. Not as bad as what he experienced in Manhattan with his adopted mother, but not what he’d escaped for, and he thinks he’s going to have to keep looking. Even if it takes him west, though he is aware life is very different in the west.  
  
Pennsylvania is easier. It’s more beautiful than anywhere he’s been before and he finds a place to work, another factory, and a kind, older woman takes him in for a few months. When her son comes to visit in September, he chases Credence away, accusing him of squirreling away her life savings, though Credence has done no such thing and thinks that the man’s expensive watch and shined shoes point toward the real culprit.  
  
He finds work on a farm not far out of the big cities and it’s nothing he’s ever done before, but he finds himself good at it. He’s not very strong, but after a few months in another cold winter, his arms and back get used to heavy lifting. He tends to animals, cleaning stalls and small pastures, fixing what needs to be fixed. It’s a large farm and there are numerous farmhands besides him, helping him where he needs it, and he earns the bed in the guesthouse with them.  
  
The man who owns the farm is old but wealthy. Credence is there for an entire year and it feels like more of a home than anywhere else ever has. But the man’s children start circling when he grows frailer and Credence sees what will happen before it does. So when the man dies and his smirking children tell them they’re all to find work elsewhere, because the farm will be sold, Credence is only resigned.  
  
Some of the friends he’s made offer for him to go with them, to their old homes, to find work elsewhere, but Credence doesn’t. He doesn’t know why, but it’s not _home_ to him yet. He’s been safe and fed well enough, earning money and no beatings, but it’s not where he belongs. He thinks he won’t stop looking for that place because he doesn’t want to settle. He wants to find what he’s never had before.  
  
Credence was born in New York, put in an orphanage before he could form memories of his biological family, and adopted at seven years old by Mary Lou Barebone. She was never a kind woman, but she had waited to start beating him until he was eight years old. He thinks he owes it to her that New York was never actually home to him, despite the fact that he was born and raised in Manhattan for twenty-six years.  
  
Towering skyscrapers and shoe shiners and well-dressed businessmen are the sights he knows and yet, since he has escaped, since he has found himself in nature, he realizes he never wants to see them again.  
  
Nearly nineteen years with only Mary Lou, living in fear of his mother and God, of pain, has soured him to New York entirely, even though he dreams of it often. Even though he gets so frightened and lonely when he must move on again that he thinks of going back, he knows it will never be home. He will never let himself be weak enough to go back, he promises himself one night, awoken from a nightmare with tear tracks on his cheeks.  
  
Credence belongs somewhere. He knows it in his heart and he doesn’t care how long it takes him to find it.  
  
Virginia has opportunity, he’s told, and he goes. But Virginia is mean, he finds, in a different way than New York. Something about it doesn’t feel right, for all its beauty, and though there are plenty of ranches he can try to find work at, Credence is reluctant to do so.  
  
But it’s winter again and he takes what he can get. A ranch in beautiful rolling hills, blanketed with snow, owned by people who look down on him, who don’t treat him with any warmth, but who pay him for his hard work all the same.  
  
He saves, never buying more than new clothes and boots when he needs them, and waits for spring.  
  
When it comes, Credence leaves and enters West Virginia for the first time. It’s in bloom, beautiful, and he watches the landscape pass him by as he sits on a train. The Blue Ridge Mountains, misty until the sun rises high in the sky and makes them shine golden, the lakes and rivers gleaming like diamonds, and Credence feels a peace in his heart he thinks he never has before.  
  
There’s a small town in the Blue Ridge Mountains, a passenger tells him on the train, where he might find work. Plenty of ranches around and someone is bound to be hiring as it’s spring, the season that needs most of the work, outside of winter.  
  
All of Credence’s worldly possessions fit in one suitcase and when he gets as close as he can to that town, he finds a ride into it and arrives later in the evening.  
  
It’s beautiful, he knows, stunning and green, heavy with the scent of pine and sap and rain. It’s so much fresher than anywhere else he’s been and it feels right. He doesn’t know what lies ahead, but he’s not as frightened as he was when he first left New York. He knows the signs to look out for and if this ends up not being what he hopes it is, he can always board another train.  
  
Credence stays in a small hotel and eats dinner in the lounge, browsing the newspaper for anything that might stand out.  
  
There’s a man sitting at a table near him, old and grizzled by the summer sun, wearing flannel and thick riding boots, and Credence knows that he keeps looking at him, but he ignores him as best he can.  
  
“Looking for work, son?” the man finally asks and his voice is rough from smoking, but there’s something more gentle to it than Credence had been expecting.  
  
He looks warily at him all the same. “Yes, sir,” he says. “I have some experience working on ranches.”  
  
The man nods as he peers at Credence, taking a drink of whiskey. “You’re a city boy,” he says. “We don’t get many of those out here.”  
  
Credence frowns and looks back down at the paper. He never really knows how these people can tell, but they always can. “I have experience working on ranches all the same, sir.”  
  
He chuckles. “Of course, son, no offense meant. How many years?”  
  
“A few,” Credence says, because the truth of it is not so impressive. “Are you hiring, sir?”  
  
“All full up myself,” the man says and finishes his whiskey. “Most of us out here are. But you might find a sympathetic ear west and east of here. It’s foal season on the ranch, after all, someone might be looking for an extra hand.”  
  
“What ranches might I be looking for, sir?”  
  
The man watches Credence with an interest he doesn’t understand. “Lydecker’s out west. Smith and Pollis are out east. Lydecker’s a son of a bitch but he’ll give you fair wages for fair work. Smith’s a gentle old fool, but his wife isn’t,” he says and smiles. “Don’t think she’d take kindly to a city boy pretending to be a ranch hand.”  
  
Credence opens his mouth to argue but the man only chuckles and waves him off.  
  
“Pollis’ is your best bet. Though he leaves in the winter and his son runs the ranch then and he ain’t much of anything but a city boy too these days.”  
  
“I’ve got experience,” Credence says and it’s not as angry as he wants it to be. He feels like this man is telling him to go back to the city, where he belongs, but he doesn’t know a thing about Credence. “I’ve birthed foals and calves and more. I can do the heavy lifting. I’m good at fixing things, I can cook and I can clean. Just because I was born in the city doesn’t mean I don’t have any skills that can’t be used out here. I’ve got the experience of both worlds.”  
  
The man smiles when Credence is done speaking before he looks at his glass of whiskey and frowns to see it empty. Credence realizes he may by talking to a drunk and sighs as he folds the newspaper and prepares to leave for his room upstairs.  
  
“There’s some spirit in you, at least,” the man says. “I know someone else with a bit of spirit in them too. He’s up this road, north of here. Always low on hands.”  
  
Credence frowns as he looks at the man. “Why didn’t you mention him first?” he asks. “Is he always low on hands because he’s worse than all of them put together?”  
  
The man laughs. “Some might say so,” he says and the way he smiles is fond, though he frowns at his glass again shortly after. “The boy’s good enough. It’s the name that keeps people away, stained as black as it is. But that was the father and not the son.”  
  
“It’s just the son now?” Credence asks warily.  
  
“That it is,” the man sighs. “Worked for me for a few years but that ranch always called him back. The old man died and he’s made it his own since.”  
  
“So why didn’t you mention that ranch first?”  
  
“Because if you go up there, your name will be stained as black as his,” the man says and shrugs. “But no one knows your name here, do they?”  
  
Credence shakes his head in agreement and bites his lip. “What name am I looking for?”  
  
“Graves,” the man says and stands from the table, wobbling a little. “Don’t bother telling anyone you’re headed there unless you feel like being talked out of it. But maybe even a city boy can make up his own mind.”  
  
Credence frowns in irritation but the man only laughs and pats him heavily on the shoulder before he lumbers away.  
  
He’s inclined to believe the man has only been messing around with him. Sometimes the people in small towns like to do that, when they sniff out that he’s an outsider, new to all of this, and he thinks about asking the hotel manager about the Graves ranch, to see if it’s even real. But the warning to not tell anyone about it, unless he wants to be talked out of it, makes him hesitate.  
  
What’s the worst that can happen, if he takes the road north and finds nothing? He’ll come back, maybe a little angry and embarrassed, but then he’ll know where to go from there.  
  
Credence goes to sleep that night hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.  
  
He’s lived through the worst before and he’s still here, still breathing, and thinks that nothing could ever truly be as bad as Manhattan under his mother’s rule. A church that was only ever his personal hell.  
  
So when morning comes, misty and cool, Credence leaves, carrying only his small suitcase, and takes the road north.  
  
The old man hadn’t told him how far to walk, but these ranches tend to be separated from each other by a fair distance, and after what must be five or six miles of nothing but beautiful countryside, the sun rising higher and clearing the mist, and an endless dirt road, he’s regretting not asking for a ride. Even if it gave away where he was going.  
  
But after another mile or so, Credence hears a noise behind him and glances back.  
  
It’s a truck, one of those expensive 1920s Chevrolet ones, but the back has been taken out and replaced with a large fenced bed and it’s full of fresh haystacks.  
  
The truck slows down and stops next to him and the man that leans his arm against the door and looks at Credence makes him wish he had some water, because he only makes Credence’s throat feel drier.  
  
“Where are you headed?” he asks Credence, his voice as attractive as him. Calm but a little demanding, a little suspicious.  
  
He’s wearing a cowboy hat but his eyebrows are so dark Credence knows he must have black hair. His eyes are dark too, but he’s handsome, enough so that Credence feels like swooning. That might be the lack of water though.  
  
He can’t be forty, youthfulness to his face, tanned but clean shaven.  
  
“North,” Credence manages.  
  
The man’s eyebrows raise and he looks out of the windshield, then back at Credence. He looks mildly amused. “There’s one place north of here,” he says, pointing over the steering wheel. “And nothing but miles upon miles of mountains after that.”  
  
Credence clears his throat. He’s tempted to tell the man it’s none of his business before he frowns. If there’s nothing else north of here, then where can he be going? Credence starts a little, feeling foolish for not realizing it the moment he heard the truck.  
  
“Mister Graves?”  
  
The man smiles, still amused. “That I am,” he says. “Someone in town send you my way?”  
  
“Umm,” Credence says and coughs. “Well, I’m looking for work, sir. I met a man that said you might be low on hands.”  
  
Mister Graves raises an eyebrow. “What was the man’s name?”  
  
Credence is a bit frightened suddenly and doesn’t know why. Stained black, the man had said, and Mister Graves sounds defensive. Like he thinks someone might be messing around with him, as well, and Credence wonders what Mister Graves’ father did, to ruin the name of his son as well.  
  
“He never actually said, sir,” Credence says and grimaces as Mister Graves frowns in irritation. “He was an older gentleman in the hotel, having a nightcap, I think. He was wearing riding boots.”  
  
“Face like leather?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Mister Graves’ face softens and he smiles, wider than last time, and Credence thinks he should turn back. Turn back and go east or west, because he doesn’t think he can work for a man that looks like Mister Graves. That smiles the way he is doing right now, because it’s making his heart hammer against his ribcage and his fingertips tingle.  
  
“Hollis Hutton,” Mister Graves says. “An old drunk, but a good man. Percival Graves.”  
  
He offers his hand to Credence and he takes it, shaking it firmly, ignoring how warm and rough Mister Graves’ hand is compared to his own. He’s been away from New York for a while now but his hands are still soft. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why everyone knows he wasn’t born into this, but Mister Graves doesn’t say anything about it when he lets Credence go.  
  
“Credence Barebone, sir,” he says. _“Are_ you low on hands, sir?”  
  
Mister Graves laughs. “If by low on hands you mean do I have any but my own two? No, I do not,” he says. “Sometimes Hollis comes up during spring to help out but the herd is smaller these days. You have experience on a ranch?”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Credence says quickly. “I’ve birthed foals in Pennsylvania. And did plenty of other odds and ends too. I can… I can cook and clean, fix things—”  
  
“I’m sure you can do all kinds of things, Mister Barebone,” Mister Graves interrupts. “Where were you before Pennsylvania?”  
  
Credence frowns. “I’ve worked in Pennsylvania and Virginia, sir.”  
  
“That’s not what I’m asking.”  
  
“I know, sir. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather my experience that relates to the work you need a hand for be all that matters.”  
  
Mister Graves observes him for a while. He smiles again, though there’s something sharper in it now and he jerks his head. “Get in.”  
  
Credence feels relief in his veins and hurries around the truck, getting inside and looking out of the windshield. He’s fully aware Mister Graves might kick him back out, whether it’s in a few minutes or a few months, but the beginning is the most important part.  
  
He needs to make a good impression and prove himself worthy quickly, so Mister Graves entertains the thought of keeping him around. He’d prefer for it to be longer than one season and West Virginia has felt more right than anywhere he’s been so far, so he desperately hopes he can make that happen.  
  
Mister Graves drives off down the road and picks up a water jug on the floor between them, handing it to Credence.  
  
Credence takes it with a mutter of gratitude and drinks from it. It’s cool and fresh, fresh like everything is in the mountains and he feels a bit more alive after it.  
  
“How old are you, Mister Barebone?”  
  
“Twenty-nine, sir.”  
  
Mister Graves doesn’t say anything after that and after a few more miles, he turns left down another dirt road and Credence sees an old, rusty arched metal sign announcing this as _Graves Ranch._ They drive through a thicket of trees before a property opens up, wide and more sprawling than Credence was expecting.  
  
It’s magnificent, set on a rolling green hill and a long valley below. The house is large and beautiful, he can tell, and it’s another quarter mile away. But there are immense horse pastures and natural ponds in them and Credence thinks he can see a river that must be behind the house, disappearing north behind the pastures, out into the forest and toward the base of the Blue Ridge Mountains peaks.  
  
It’s stunning, more stunning than anywhere he’s been, and he wonders how in the world Mister Graves keeps it all up himself.  
  
“How many acres do you have?”  
  
“Five hundred or so,” Mister Graves says and smiles when Credence gapes at him. “Most of it is forest and river.”  
  
Credence nods and looks out at the pasture to the left of the house, the biggest one, plenty of room to exercise, where a few handfuls of horses graze. The pasture next to them has three mares that he can see are pregnant, when they get closer, but Mister Graves turns into the drive of the house and parks in front of it.  
  
There’s a small pasture set just in front of the house and there’s a horse in it, a large stallion, and Credence wonders why he’s separated from the others.  
  
“We’ll unload soon,” Mister Graves says as he gestures at the barn further down the road, next to the pastures.  
  
Credence follows when he gets outside and looks up at the stunning house. It’s two stories, with a wide, wrap-around porch, painted crisp white with a dark roof. There are numerous windows and he can only imagine how many rooms are inside. An addition had been built at some point, probably for household staff and ranch hands, and Credence hopes that might be where he will stay, rather than the barn.  
  
He hears barking then, as they walk up toward the porch, and a large dog comes running around the side of the house, bunding toward Mister Graves.  
  
She’s beautiful, black and white and tan, with a thick coat and a cropped tail. Her brown eyes are friendly as Mister Graves pats her head and she gazes at Credence. She sniffs his suitcase and him after.  
  
“Lady,” Mister Graves says. “Tell her no and she’ll leave you be.”  
  
Credence is used to being around dogs nowadays but Lady is by far the friendliest and he scratches her behind her fluffy ears until Mister Graves walks up the porch and he hastens to follow.  
  
Lady is allowed inside, something he hasn’t seen anyone do yet, and Mister Graves doesn’t look fazed as he takes off his hat and brushes thick, black hair back from his forehead. He looks at Credence and Credence feels his heart ache in a painful, embarrassing way.  
  
He’s felt it before, of course, when looking at handsome men, knowing he has to be around them often, and only hopes he can get busy enough to forget it.  
  
It hasn’t worked yet and when Mister Graves says it’s only him, the household caretaker and Lady, Credence thinks about turning tail and leaving. But he’s come so far and this place is beautiful and promises him so much more than he’s had, if he does this right. Including never staring at Mister Graves more than he should.  
  
“Who’s this?” a woman’s voice asks.  
  
Credence jumps a little as he looks at the stairs and at a woman walking down them. She’s older, her hair grey, but her eyes are sharp and blue as she inspects Credence, and she moves with strength and purpose.  
  
“Credence Barebone,” Mister Graves says. “This is Miss Hornwall, caretaker of the household and bane of my existence.”  
  
Miss Hornwall rolls her eyes as she extends her hand to Credence. “Swaddled him as a babe and he calls me these things,” she says but she smiles and there’s kindness in it. “Good to meet you, Mister Barebone. Your new hand, Percy?”  
  
“We’ll see,” Mister Graves says. “In about a week or so.” He winks at Credence, which makes him blush, though he’s grateful he’s being given a chance.  
  
A week is plenty of time for him to prove himself.  
  
“Thank you for the opportunity,” Credence says.  
  
He’s rather overwhelmed. Normally he faces older, meaner men, asking him endless questions about his skills and often declaring him not worth much despite hiring him immediately after. But he’s in Mister Graves’ home and he’s young and he smiles and he’s got a warm humor Credence isn’t prepared for. It’s only the three of them here, along with Lady and the horses, and it’s so different from what he’s experienced so far.  
  
Credence is absolutely certain he’s going to ruin it one day, but he swears to himself that it won’t be over the next week. That maybe he can prove himself enough so that when he does ruin it, he might be given a second chance.  
  
“I’ll take that from you, Mister Barebone,” Miss Hornwall says and takes his suitcase. “You follow the stairs and around the corner there’s a door on the right. What’s beyond it is yours. There’s a door leading out to the back for the mornings, but I’ll call you back for breakfast when it’s ready.”  
  
“Okay,” Credence says, his hands feeling rather bereft now. “Thank you very much, Miss Hornwall.”  
  
“Not at all, dear boy.”  
  
Credence watches her go and idly scratches Lady’s ears as she presses her face against his leg. He looks around the handsome home, a sitting room to the right and the dining room to the left and the kitchen beyond it. The kitchen seems to have a fantastic view of the pastures and forest beyond it and Credence is glad when Mister Graves leads him into it so he can look.  
  
There’s a creek running behind the house that joins with the river a few hundred feet down the line of trees and Credence hopes he has time to sit by it, enjoy the sound of it, the smell of the trees and the grass and the wildflowers that grow along the water.  
  
Mister Graves fills a canteen and gives it to Credence and his eyes are so intense that Credence has a hard time meeting them as he thanks him.  
  
He drinks his fill, knowing this is his now, and feels infinitely better after his long walk.  
  
“It’s about lunch,” Mister Graves says. “We’ll eat and unload the hay after. Sit down.”  
  
Mister Graves is gesturing at the smaller kitchen table and Credence tentatively does so, keeping his hands clasped in his lap as he watches Mister Graves sit across from him, peering at him with interest.  
  
A few strands of his black hair fall over his forehead and Credence notices for all his youthfulness, there’s a bit of grey coming in at his temples.  
  
Devastatingly handsome, Credence thinks with some despair, as Lady lays next to him and puts her chin on Credence’s boot.  
  
“Got her to chase off anything that might come looking for the foals or get into the chicken coop,” Mister Graves says dryly. “She does those well enough, I suppose, but she’d rather make friends with the horses and anyone who comes by than protect my own household.”  
  
Credence smiles, unable to help it. “I was always told letting a dog in the house softens them.”  
  
“She stays out at night,” Mister Graves says. “But she was destined to be soft from the beginning.”  
  
“That’s because she came to us with a broken leg at eight weeks old,” Miss Hornwall’s voice says as she walks into the kitchen through a swinging door. “And Percy had to nurse the poor dear for a few months as she outgrew every cast he put on her within a week or two. I thought she’d surely end up lame anyway but she gives the black bears quite a fright these days.”  
  
Credence smiles again and bites his lip as he does, looking at Lady and Mister Graves, whose cheeks look a little pink. Credence thinks not many men would go out of their way for a dog like that. He knows what they’d rather do to puppies with a hard injury and there’s something comforting in it, to know that Mister Graves didn’t. That he cared enough about one dog when there are plenty of them out there to buy.  
  
“I think she’d probably protect the household just fine if people you didn’t invite around ever came by,” Credence says quietly as he looks down at the table.  
  
“Let’s hope that never happens to find out,” Miss Hornwall says. “Lunch?”  
  
“Please,” Mister Graves says. “Tell us what took you from Pennsylvania to Virginia to West Virginia, Mister Barebone.”  
  
“Umm,” Credence says. “Credence, please, if you don’t mind, sir.” He chews his lip and shrugs. “The first farm I worked at, the man who owned it passed away from old age and his children sold it off. The second one I worked at, in Virginia… well, I don’t think that… Virginia and I agreed well with each other.”  
  
Mister Graves and Miss Hornwall both chuckle, like they know exactly what he means, and he blushes.  
  
“I worked the winter and took the train here when spring came,” Credence says.  
  
“How long were you on the farm in Pennsylvania?” Mister Graves asks.  
  
He’s asking how much experience Credence really does have and when Credence looks at him, he finds he can’t lie.  
  
“One year,” he says quietly and looks away.  
  
“We’re all green at some point, Mister Barebone,” Miss Hornwall says as she moves around the kitchen. “Whether it’s when we’re children and are just starting to learn or whether it’s when we look for something else when we’re older and are just starting to learn.”  
  
“We’re down to horses and chickens,” Mister Graves says with a dry smile. “Probably less than you were expecting. But if you’ve got experienced birthing foals, that’s all I care about. I’m perfectly capable of fixing things myself but if I need a hand with that, your aid would be welcome. You’re qualified enough. What monthly wage were you after?”  
  
Credence sits up straighter. This is his least favorite part of being hired. It feels like a test to him, that if he says too much he will fail and if he says too little, he will also fail. The men who ask want to know what he thinks he’s worth, even if they think differently, and seem to make all sorts of judgments about his character based on how he answers.  
  
It’s frustrating, embarrassing, and frightening. His stomach tightens with nerves and he swallows dryly, looking at Mister Graves.  
  
“I was paid thirty dollars monthly, sir, in Virginia.”  
  
Mister Graves raises his eyebrows. “Is that what you’re asking me to pay you?”  
  
Credence’s cheeks are warm and he licks his lips. “I think that was a fair wage considering the experience I have, yes, sir.”  
  
“Percy,” Mister Graves says. “We’re not as respectable as we used to be here, Credence. If I’m to call you Credence, you’re to call me Percy.”  
  
Credence’s cheeks are flaming now but he nods quickly. “Yes, sir,” he mumbles. “Percy, sir.”  
  
Percy looks amused and he hears Miss Hornwall chuckling to herself as she makes lunch. “I’ll pay you thirty dollars a month until I decide for myself what I think you’re worth, when the time comes and nothing less. A week from now or later than that.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Credence says with some relief, to know his wages won’t be lessened later on. “When should I be expected to work in the morning?”  
  
“Sunrise to sunset with four meal breaks is what I do. Expect to do the same.”  
  
Credence nods and doesn’t dare tell Percy that that’s two more meals than he’s used to eating. It all seems like it’s too good to be true here and Credence looks around the home, the bright wooden floors polished to a sheen, the nice and sturdy furniture. At Lady asleep on his boot, Miss Hornwall making sandwiches in the kitchen and Percy Graves sitting across from him, gazing at Credence like he’s genuinely interested in him.  
  
It doesn’t feel like joining on as only a ranch hand, one of many, where he was separated from the main household, lesser than what they were. This feels like joining Percy’s household, an intimate sort of feeling, and it’s overwhelming.  
  
He’s definitely going to ruin this and perhaps much sooner than he expected.  
  
“Thank you, sir. Percy, sir,” Credence says. “For hiring me.”  
  
“I suppose we should both thank Hollis, if he comes by soon,” Percy says with a wry smile. “He must have liked you.”  
  
“I wasn’t quite sure if he knew what he was saying to me most of the time or if any of it was real,” Credence mumbles and is a bit horrified with himself after. “Though he was very nice!”  
  
Percy looks like he wants to laugh but he only smiles. “An old drunk, I told you. But never enough to not know exactly what he’s doing or saying, as much as he’ll tell people otherwise.”  
  
“One of the few who ventures this way anymore,” Miss Hornwall says as she brings over a huge plate of sandwiches and sets them in the middle of the table, along with a pitcher of lemonade.  
  
Credence doesn’t feel comfortable asking anything about that and Percy doesn’t offer up anything more. They eat, Credence more reluctantly, until Percy threatens that for every bite he doesn’t take, he’ll give one to Lady, who is peering between them, sitting up now, her brown eyes wide and pleading.  
  
It makes Credence eat more and if he smiles while he does it, well, Percy only smiles back.  
  
After lunch, Percy and Credence drive down to the barn and he helps him unload the hay. Even the barn is far larger than he’s used to and well taken care of. He had been expecting the ranch to be a little run down, perhaps, if Percy was always low on labor, but he supposes he’s always been part of that labor himself and knows the upkeep well.  
  
He only bred three mares last year, he explains to Credence, because it’s harder to do, when it’s only him. Harder to breed them and harder to birth the foals after, especially if a second pair of hands is needed for any complications.  
  
A few yearlings trot around the pasture, beautiful and well taken care of, and Percy mentions buyers will eventually make their offers for them, when they swallow their pride.  
  
His horses are from long lines of prized racing Thoroughbreds and Percy mentions that they still produce the best because he still races the best of them himself and often wins. He doesn’t go to the races, only saying dryly that he’d rather avoid the drama, and it’s an easy way to fill his pockets. His most prized horses will be brought home by their trainer soon enough, to breed for next year, and he will take the promising yearlings to break them in and see how they race.  
  
It’s an odd arrangement, all to avoid Percy having to be involved, because he has the room here to do everything himself. But it’s not Credence’s place to ask about the drama, about why there even is any, about why his name is supposedly stained black.  
  
He only does what Percy asks for the rest of the day. He knows how to groom a horse, even temperamental ones now, but shoeing them or trimming their hooves is beyond him. Percy looks as if he suspects as much but he only tells Credence he’ll teach him how, when the time for it comes.  
  
He’s patient, almost worryingly so. Credence is so used to being barked at, even by the people he actually liked, but Percy only explains everything calmly and answers Credence’s questions in a long-winded sort of way, leaving him with more knowledge about horses and ranches than he had been expecting to learn today.  
  
Maybe it’s because he’s young, Credence muses. He can’t even be ten years older than Credence, but everything that Credence knows about him would seem to suggest a bitter and angry man might have been left behind by his father and the way everyone else treats him.  
  
But Percy has a good sense of humor, dry and sometimes self-deprecating. He’s a confident man though, in the way he moves, in the way he talks about horses and the ranch.  
  
About the land he lives on.  
  
This is what he knows, what he grew up with, and Credence smiles when one of the horses, a chestnut mare, knocks Percy’s cowboy hat off and noses at his hair, imagining what he might be like if he stepped into New York City.  
  
Maybe it would feel as strange to Percy as mountains did to Credence, when he first stepped foot into them.  
  
Percy names the horses for Credence before they’re due to go in for dinner, the sun starting to set, as they take some into the barn and their stalls for the night. He tells him the ones to keep an eye on when he’s in pasture or putting them up in the barn himself.  
  
There’s one in particular, he says, a retired stallion by the name of Johnnie Walker, or John, that’s as proud as they come and will injure Credence if he gives him the chance.  
  
He’s the one off by himself in front of the house, a dark bay horse, tall at the shoulders, Credence can tell, even as he grazes. Percy says to leave John to him unless he asks otherwise.  
  
Dinner is pork chops, mashed potatoes and a variety of spring vegetables. Miss Hornwall has a greenhouse behind the addition, she tells Credence when she serves them, and grows as much produce as she can herself.  
  
She doesn’t join them for dinner, taking hers upstairs, and Percy smiles when he catches Credence’s frown.  
  
“Old habits die hard, as they say,” Percy says. “Mother and Father wouldn’t permit servants or laborers at the table. I’ve been telling her for a decade she can join me but she only deigns to if I’m ill or otherwise unwell.”  
  
Credence doesn’t quite know what _otherwise unwell_ means if it doesn’t mean sick but he doesn’t dare to ask about it.  
  
“It seems like it would be lonely to eat by yourself for ten years, Percy, sir.”  
  
“We’re going to have to work on dropping the _sir,_ aren’t we?” Percy says but he’s smiling as he gets a forkful of mashed potatoes. “I keep telling her that to try and gain some sympathy but she has a heart of steel, Miss Hornwall.”  
  
Credence knows that’s not true and he’s only been here for a few hours. “I was never permitted to eat with my employers before,” he says. “It does feel a bit strange.”  
  
Percy chuckles. “Well,” he shrugs, “it’s only day one. Maybe you’ll feel differently by the end of the week. But there’s no point sitting fifty feet away from each other in silence four times a day eating the same exact meal when we can share the table and maybe, if you’re so inclined, good conversation.”  
  
Credence blushes and purses his lips, trying not to smile. “Alright,” he says. “I would enjoy that.”  
  
“Good man,” Percy says. “I usually have a nightcap after dinner, if you’d like to join me.”  
  
“Oh… no, sir, but thank you. I don’t drink.”  
  
“For a reason or because you’ve never had the occasion?”  
  
“...both.”  
  
Percy peers at Credence for a while before he shrugs. “Fair enough,” he says. “Though if you’d ever like to join me with a nonalcoholic beverage, feel free to.”  
  
Credence nods. “Thank you,” he says earnestly, though he has no such plans to ever do that.  
  
He’s overwhelmed enough being this close to his employer and his employer being… well, everything that he is so far, and Credence is only trying not to stare at him too closely. He doesn’t want to worry about what he’s saying or doing in Percy’s company anymore than he already has to. Especially not if Percy is drinking and relaxed for the evening.  
  
The way his hair keeps falling over his forehead is already driving Credence mad enough.  
  
After Miss Hornwall has reappeared and cleared away their dishes, she takes Credence to his room. The door is unfortunately right across the hallway from the door Percy walks into, which looks a very handsome and warm den, but Miss Hornwall ushers him into the addition and he blinks as he looks around.  
  
It’s his own small house, he thinks idly.  
  
“I only aired it out a week ago when the weather finally turned,” Miss Hornwall says. “So it should be fresh enough, but open the windows if you’d like, if it’s not too cold.”  
  
Credence looks around the large room. There’s a huge bed, far too big for him, he thinks with a bit of panic, and there’s a sofa and a bearskin rug. He can see that it was likely multiple rooms at some point, perhaps when there were more caretakers and laborers, but it’s been made into a guest home, of sorts. There are bookshelves, though only a few books on them, and he can see a bathroom and closet on the other end of the room.  
  
“It used to fit four,” Miss Hornwall says, perhaps understanding why he’s so surprised. “But we stopped needing that a long time ago. We only get a wandering soul, much like yourself, now and then. Sometimes it’ll be quite a while before that even happens but he does entertain guests now and then and prefers to keep them in here rather than in the upstairs rooms. He likes his peace and quiet, Percy does,” she adds dryly. When Credence grimaces, she chuckles. “Oh, don’t worry, dear boy. We aren’t expecting guests and if you decide you like it here and stay, Percy will surely be able to manage with guests upstairs.”  
  
She pats his shoulder. “Anything I can bring you? Water or tea?”  
  
“Oh… no thank you,” Credence says a bit breathlessly. “I’m alright.”  
  
“Some water then,” Miss Hornwall says and disappears out of the room.  
  
Credence sighs but he walks to the bed where his suitcase is waiting for him and glances inside quickly, glad to see nothing has been disturbed, even if it makes him feel guilty afterward.  
  
The bathroom is plenty enough for him, better than anything he’s ever had, and Credence sits on the end of the bed and stares at the wall across from him.  
  
It’s too much. It’s a dream come true and dreams never come true for Credence.  
  
He couldn’t care less what people in town or in the horse racing business have to say about Percival Graves. He is a kind man and his home is beautiful and he has already given Credence more than he has ever had.  
  
But he knows that things like this don’t last. He’s been looking for his home, the place where he belongs, and he isn’t foolish enough to think he’s found it here. That it was relatively easy to find, even. A few years of both ease and hardship isn’t truly all that long to find where he belongs.  
  
There will be a catch. There will be a price to pay for all of this, he is sure, and he closes his eyes and thinks about _waiting for the other shoe to drop._  
  
Miss Hornwall comes back in with a glass of cold water and a hot mug of tea and wishes him a good night. She reminds him to be up and dressed with the sun and to go to the barn before she closes the door behind herself and Credence is alone.  
  
He dresses in pajamas and drinks the mug of tea, a mild but soothing flavor, and he finds he’s quite tired afterward. He lays down in the too-large bed, with too-large blankets and too-large pillows, curling up and thinking he’ll never be able to sleep in such abnormal comfort.  
  
But Credence is asleep only moments later and will realize he hadn’t moved an inch all night when he wakes in the morning.  
  
——  
  
It’s busy work in the morning, feeding and watering the horses. There are thirteen of them at the moment and Percy calls them his _baker’s dozen._ Credence cleans out some of their hooves in the barn and Percy watches him do it for the first few horses, but Credence is confident in this.  
  
He’s glad for it, because he’d been a mess the first few weeks after learning how, afraid he’d hurt the horses or do it wrong, leave muck in the wrong areas and be the reason for an infection and a rifle to follow. That never happened and though he did occasionally poke a sole, the horses always let him know and one day he simply never did it again.  
  
When one of them, Sammy, decides she doesn’t want to give him her hind left foot, Credence knows how to make her do it with a firm bump into her body until she relents and allows him to pick her foot up. He’s seen others hit the pick against their fetlocks but he thinks it looks cruel and none have forced him to try that yet.  
  
Percy doesn’t praise him and Credence doesn’t need him to, but he sees him smiling when he walks away, and his shoulders sag in relief.  
  
Credence turns them out once he’s done with them and walks around the rest of the herd that was left out overnight to make sure there are no injuries. Percy says the first mare is due in May and the other two in June, though sometimes they get surprises, like any other species. But they’re not close to labor yet, as large as they are, and Credence fills a trough with a grain mix that he knows pregnant horses get in the last few months of gestation.  
  
He is infinitely grateful for his time on the farm in Pennsylvania and the ranch in Virginia for not making him look like a complete fool and is rather proud of himself when he’s able to do things on his own and not ask Percy for help.  
  
Credence probably will one day, but to not need it on his first day has him feeling better about himself than he has in a long while.  
  
They eat breakfast and two lunches together and Percy asks Credence questions, but he doesn’t answer all of them, because they’ll tell too much of his story. Percy always looks a little amused by that, rather than offended, but Credence is glad for that too. It’s no one’s business but his own and he suspects Percy would not be so open with him either if he asked about what’s gone wrong in his own life.  
  
Credence mucks out the barn while Percy exercises two of the mares and he has a suspicion that Percy knows full well he’s not experienced with riding. That was left to ranch hands with more experience where he was before for the safety of everyone involved but he thinks the longer he stays, Percy will eventually make him learn. He’s the one laborer after all and horses need the exercise.  
  
But the first day is over quickly, always busy when there are numerous large animals involved, and when the sun sets, he goes inside stinking of horse and feeling accomplished.  
  
Even if he has to sit across the table from Percy when Miss Hornwall serves them dinner.  
  
Percy talks to him about the ranch and what it used to look like, how busy it used to be once upon a time, how the Graves name was a hot commodity in the horse racing circles. He could afford cattle then and sheep, he says, but when it all went a different way, money would get tighter than he was comfortable with, so he sold them off and Miss Hornwall buys beef from the Hutton ranch.  
  
The labor he had went away as the other herds did but he does alright managing the ranch on his own when it’s not breeding and foal season. The winters are hard, as they always are, and sometimes he has to hire help, but he’s managed for a while now, he says.  
  
Miss Hornwall is cleaning the table off when he says that and tells Credence that the greys in Percy’s hair at thirty-seven show just how well he’s managing.  
  
“Just yesterday she told me they made me look distinguished,” Percy says dryly. “I’m inclined to think you were lying to me, Miss Hornwall.”  
  
“A liar I’ll never be,” Miss Hornwall says as she begins to make coffee, to go with a cake she had baked earlier today. “It’s the stress that’ll do you in but you’ll look distinguished before it does.”  
  
Percy shakes his head as he looks at Credence. “Maybe Mister Barebone’s assistance will slow my descent into a stress-induced death,” he says and smiles as Credence ducks his head to hide his own smile.  
  
“You could always marry, Percival,” Miss Hornwall says. “That might help too. It might breathe some life back into this place and into you too. Into your name.”  
  
Credence’s heart races a little faster but when he looks at Percy, he sees him grimacing as he drinks from his glass of water.  
  
“Not a conversation for tonight, Miss Hornwall.”  
  
“No. Nor for the last ten years worth of nights,” Miss Hornwall says. “Perhaps you’ll come around while you still have youth on your side.”  
  
Percy doesn’t say anything to this and Credence watches him stare down at the glass before averting his eyes. He thinks it would be just his luck to get to a place like this and have his employer decide to marry and have children right after, so he might have to watch on forever, heartsick and wicked as always.  
  
But Percy doesn’t look like he’s keen on the idea of marriage. Credence thinks that has more to do with what’s gone on here, than Percy’s own personal feelings about it and it makes him sigh and long for his room.  
  
Miss Hornwall serves coffee and slices of white cake, patting Percy’s shoulder before she disappears upstairs.  
  
Credence takes a bite of the cake, deliciously sweet and moist, better than anything he’s had in recent memory, but it’s hard to enjoy it, when he looks at Percy and sees him frowning down at the cup of coffee in his hand.  
  
“She’s right, of course,” Percy says quietly, almost to himself. “Despite how most people feel about me, marrying someone of stature would bring it all back around.”  
  
Credence sets his fork down, wildly out of his element when it comes to these sorts of things, and not particularly wanting to think about it either way. He takes a sip of the coffee and sets the cup aside as he sighs.  
  
“Why haven’t you then? In the last ten years?” he asks. It’s not his business, not at all, but Percy wouldn’t be talking about it if he expected no response.  
  
Percy hums as he looks up at Credence. “Money isn’t what it used to be but that only means I’m not drowning in it anymore. I have enough for a lifetime and more, as long as I keep selling winning horses and winning races myself,” he says. “I don’t care about my reputation. I don’t care to bring this place back to what it was when my father was alive. It’s peaceful here now. Quiet, the way I always wanted it to be.”  
  
“Then why are you so stressed?”  
  
Percy chuckles. “Well, just because I’m managing doesn’t mean it’s easy. She’s right in that. But I don’t get people like you, Credence, who aren’t scared off by a tarnished name. Whether at the beginning or sometime into it. So… while I can manage most of it, some of my stress would be alleviated by the help of someone like you.”  
  
Credence bites his lip and looks at the table. “I know something about tarnished names,” he says slowly and looks at Percy. “And living with one by someone else’s choices. I know it’s only been a day, but I would like to stay and work as long as you’ll allow me to.”  
  
“I think by the end of the week you and I are going to have a better understanding of what that looks like,” Percy says. “We’ll see how you feel when winter comes around.”  
  
“I don’t think I’m ever going to feel any different, Percy, sir.”  
  
Percy smiles faintly. “Winter is a long while from now,” he says and stands. “Enjoy that cake. Miss Hornwall only bakes like this on special occasions. A welcome home, if you will.”  
  
Credence’s heart jumps and he blinks as he watches Percy pick up his plate and coffee. He leaves the kitchen through the swinging door and Lady trots after him, pushing the door open with her nose and disappearing. Credence suspects he’s off to the den for his nightcap and he’s a little hurt that he hadn’t said goodnight before he decides that’s a foolish thing to feel.  
  
People are entitled to their complicated emotions, Percy Graves included.  
  
But the cake is harder to eat without him there and though it’s as good as it is, Credence only manages to get through it out of politeness’ sake, even if it is a welcome home. A welcome home is what he’s been looking for for three years but he thinks he might be more moved if it was Percy who said it, who meant it.  
  
He puts his plate and cup away and walks to his room.  
  
Credence stands in the middle of it, taken aback by it all over again. Large and filled with comforts, filled with whatever he could wish for, and yet he feels rather hollow tonight. He walks to the bookshelf and looks at the five books laying haphazardly on one shelf.  
  
 _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_ is a name that’s familiar to him, but he’s never had the occasion to read it. He’s not well read at all and barely had the opportunity to improve on that in the last few years. But he chooses the book all the same and sits on the sofa with a soft lamp on and opens it to the first page.  
  
——  
  
The rest of Credence’s first week goes by smoothly. It’ll always be hard, busy work tending to horses, but he falls into Percy’s routine, fits in with it well himself, and enjoys it.  
  
Lady wakes him some nights, barking and snarling near the chicken coop, likely chasing off coyotes and foxes, but it’s disturbing to hear it so close to where he sleeps sometimes.  
  
But when her barks take on a different tone one night, more aggressive and further away, Credence yanks his boots on and when he stumbles outside, he sees that Percy is already on the back porch, rifle in hand. He whistles, until Lady comes back, and it’s pitch black out and Percy can’t possibly see a thing but he fires the rifle anyway. Something splashes in the creek and through the trees beyond it, and it’s much, much closer than Credence had been expecting. He waits with bated breath but Percy lowers the rifle and pats Lady’s head, looking at Credence.  
  
“Black bear,” he says wryly, only in his long pajama bottoms. “They know what spring brings as well as we do.”  
  
Credence wipes a bit of cold sweat off his forehead and nods. “Have… have they ever gotten to the horses?”  
  
“Rarely, when the group was bigger,” Percy says as he leans the rifle against the house and walks down the small set of stairs that lead to the back door of the addition, where Credence stands. “Only once since it got smaller, when Lady was still in a cast. She does well enough keeping them away and warning me when they get too close.”  
  
“How often do they come?” Credence asks and pointedly doesn’t look at Percy, but rather in the direction of the creek, its trickling water tonight not as peaceful as it normally is.  
  
“A few times in the spring, but they only need the reminder so many times before they move on,” Percy says. “September and October, they’ll come around again, before they den, but the foals will be bigger, warier. I don’t expect I’ll lose any, like I haven’t the last three years.”  
  
Lady has come to stand by Percy, still, her ears erect and staring off at the woods, where the bear had disappeared into. But when Percy pats her head, she relaxes and pants happily, looking up at him.  
  
“I never saw a bear in Pennsylvania,” Credence says quietly. “A lot of coyotes and foxes. I think we were too close to the city.”  
  
“A lucky year more likely,” Percy chuckles and claps Credence on the shoulder. “I’ll teach you how to shoot over the next few weeks.”  
  
Credence feels a little queasy at that. He’s so clumsy, even after a year and a half of doing this sort of work, and he thinks he’s more likely to shoot himself than any bear. He doesn’t tell Percy that but when he looks at him, Percy is smiling, like he knows what Credence might be thinking. He regrets looking at him then, his bare chest in the moonlight, somehow worse than it was up in the light of the porch.  
  
He’s a solid man, that’s easy enough to tell under his clothes, but he’s tanned and muscled in a way only seeing him shirtless would make obvious and Credence looks away, his throat dry. His skin is dark enough that Credence suspects he must go shirtless now and then and why shouldn’t he, the only one out here? But it’s going to haunt Credence, if he ever has to see it more than tonight.  
  
“Try to get some more sleep,” Percy says. “I’ll check on the horses.”  
  
“No… no, I should too,” Credence mumbles. “I’ll go to the barn, if you’d like.”  
  
Percy gazes at Credence before he nods. “You go to the pastures, I’ll go to the barn because it’ll be safer in the truck. Take Lady and put on something warmer before you do,” he says and squeezes Credence’s shoulder. He’s off back to the house, leaving Credence to shuffle back inside, squirming in embarrassment.  
  
He would have told Percy _you too,_ but that would have likely embarrassed him more than being in front of his employer in his sleep shirt and shorts. He dresses quickly and blames the bear for it all, getting a lantern lit and walking outside again.  
  
Credence checks on the mares first, alert and restless, as is the rest of the herd. But they’re alright, no injuries, and sticking closely together far at the end of the pasture. Percy was right to go to the barn, Credence realizes, because the walk to it with only a lantern would’ve terrified him, knowing a bear might appear out of the darkness at any moment.  
  
When he’s checked on Johnnie Walker, mean and angry at the world it seems, he goes to the back of the house and waits on the porch for Percy to come back. Lady sits next to him and he scratches her head as they watch Percy drive back.  
  
He gets out and walks up onto the porch and its light doesn’t help matters. But Credence merely tries to think about his fear, of the bear, and anything but his employer shirtless.  
  
“All good,” Percy says and smiles as Lady sits on his boot. He ruffles her fur and looks at Credence. “John doing okay?”  
  
“Yes,” Credence says. “He’s angry but he’s fine. All of them are. They’ll be alert for the rest of the night.”  
  
“Sun will be up in a couple hours,” Percy says. “They’ll relax then.” He smiles as he watches Credence, who can’t help but fidget. “Come inside, Mister Barebone, for a few minutes.”  
  
Credence wants to beg him to let him go back to sleep, though Percy clearly knows that won’t be happening, but he would be in the safety of his own room. He doesn’t have the courage to argue with him though and he nods, following Percy inside, and they leave the porch light on.  
  
“Any casualties?” Miss Hornwall’s voice calls from upstairs.  
  
“No, ma’am,” Percy calls back. “Go back to sleep.”  
  
Her footsteps fade overhead and Percy leads Credence through the kitchen and to his den. It is warm, handsome mahogany wood and comfortable armchairs and a sofa. There are numerous bookshelves and he thinks Percy must be a well read man. The trophy cases are full as well, gleaming with many cups, most placed first or second. The desk is large, scattered with papers, and there’s a large liquor cabinet against one wall. Percy walks to it and opens it and with a start, Credence sees scars on his back, sending his heart into a frantic pace.  
  
But they aren’t lashes from a belt. He’s not sure what they’re from, perhaps a bad fall, but that doesn’t seem quite right either. Two are small but the larger one, from his right shoulder down to the end of his ribs, must have been nasty when it happened. It had been stitched and cleaned up, not a lot of raised tissue, and Credence swiftly averts his eyes when Percy turns around.  
  
“Sit,” Percy says, gesturing at one of the armchairs.  
  
With a sigh, Credence sits and frowns when Percy hands him a glass. “Oh, no thank you, I really don’t drink.”  
  
“No alcohol,” Percy says with a smile. “Just a bit of flavor and a splash of tonic.”  
  
Credence takes it tentatively and sniffs it when Percy isn’t looking as he sits in another armchair, just to be sure. But there is no alcohol, such a strong smell that he had gotten plenty used to over the last few years. It smells a bit like berries and he frowns as he takes a small sip.  
  
It tastes like berries too with some sweetness and a nice, sharp tartness at the end.  
  
“What is this?” Credence asks curiously.  
  
“Thirty miles south of here a recovering alcohol learned how to make spirits appetizing without the alcohol,” Percy says with a wry smile. “I keep some on hand for guests that don’t enjoy drinking. Not that I get many,” he adds, with some amusement.  
  
“It’s good,” Credence says. And, despite no alcohol in it, his nerves feel a little less frayed. He thinks it might be the warm room, safe and comfortable, where no bears might be prowling around.  
  
Percy drinks whiskey, tipping back a shot’s worth before pouring himself more. He holds the glass as he peers at Credence. “We’ll go out tomorrow, follow the tracks. Always a good idea to look for them on the property during this season,” he says. “I’ll show you what signs to look for without the tracks too.”  
  
Credence nods. “Okay,” he says and takes a sip of his drink, setting it aside. “I’d like to learn that.” He bites his lip and frowns. “John was a racehorse, wasn’t he?”  
  
“One of the very best,” Percy says with a faint smile. “Won a lot of those.” He gestures at the trophy cases.  
  
“How old is he?”  
  
“Six.”  
  
Credence blinks a few times and raises his eyebrows. “Was he injured?”  
  
Percy is quiet as he looks down at his whiskey glass. “In a way, yes,” he finally says as he looks at Credence. “He could still run with the best of them but he’s mean now. Too aggressive for any trainer and I can’t seem to work it out of him. Reared him into a gentleman myself but horses spook easily.”  
  
Credence knows that well, but this is different. “What happened?”  
  
“Took him out in the fall two years ago,” Percy says with a long sigh. “Good trail horse and his height helps with the environment around here. They said a storm was coming in at seven but it came around one instead. The river about three miles northwest of here is wide. We were halfway across when it rose, not enough time to get through it. It was the noise of the river that got him, more than the rain. Damn horse nearly killed us both. I came out of it with a few scratches and he came out of it a different horse.”  
  
Credence stares at Percy and his heart is thumping heavily. He knows all too well what it’s like to be traumatized by things, to be afraid of certain noises, but he supposes he never really thought about it in an animal. That it might be the same for them, but they can’t work it out like he could. Grow past it and heal, even if it’s just a bit.  
  
He thinks that Percy’s _few scratches_ are probably the scars on his back and there’s something in his eyes that speaks to his own feelings about the memory. Credence thinks he probably worries more about John than he does himself though.  
  
“He’s kept out in the pasture at night,” Credence says slowly.  
  
“What if a storm comes through?” Percy asks with raised eyebrows and smiles when Credence nods. “Can’t get him in the barn anymore. Tried to build him shelter in the pasture, more open, and he won’t go under it either. Stubborn horse doesn’t know what’s good for him. He lets me put some protection on him but that’s about all he lets me do anymore. There will be no breeding with him either.”  
  
Credence frowns. He grabs his glass and takes another drink and stares down at the clear liquid after.  
  
Johnnie Walker is another Lady.  
  
Most would have turned a rifle on him when they realized there was no working him out of it or that he couldn’t breed. It would be a loss, certainly, as good of a racehorse as he is, but they would do it all the same. Credence wonders if it would be kinder to put such an aggressive animal out of his misery but he’s not about to ask how Percy feels about it. He hasn’t done it yet, so he’s not likely to take kindly to the question, Credence thinks.  
  
“How’d you get him home that day?”  
  
Percy laughs. “It’s more of a question of how he got _me_ home,” he says and smiles wryly. “I couldn’t get back on him but he let me lean on him all the same. The fear he had that night but the aggression took a couple weeks or so to become apparent. I was laid up in my bed for most of that. Came back down one day and he was gone.”  
  
“I’ve never heard of that happening to a horse before,” Credence says quietly. “Sometimes I hear that dogs turn for no real reason.”  
  
“In my experience when a dog turns on someone, it’s that someone’s doing. Whether it was then or a week ago or a year ago,” Percy says with a shrug. “But I’ve heard similar things happen to different animals that have happened to John.”  
  
Credence again wants to ask why he’s not ending it but then maybe Percy has hope that one day he might be able to turn it around. John is only six years old and healthy after all.  
  
But Credence thinks of the damage done to him and how it’s better now certainly, but it was still done and he’ll always be broken, in some way. At least he can rationalize it, while a horse can’t.  
  
He finishes his drink and sighs as he looks at Percy, who is gazing down at his whiskey glass again. “Are you alright, sir?”  
  
“Just fine, Credence,” Percy says as he looks at him. “Better if you dropped the _sir.”_  
  
Credence smiles, unable to help it. “Maybe one day,” he says and bites his lip when Percy smiles back, his eyes a touch softer now. “If it’s alright with you, I think I’d like to see if I can get some sleep.”  
  
“Go on,” Percy says. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Credence says as he stands. He leaves the den and closes the door behind him, letting out a long sigh.  
  
He doesn’t know why he’s the way he is, but it would be a relief if attractive, shirtless men stopped being something he paid attention to. It would make working on ranches easier anyway. At least the ones he worked on had numerous shirtless men, so he never got caught staring longer than he should have, and he prays that autumn gets here soon.  
  
Credence walks into the addition and takes his boots off before he collapses into bed. He would like to sleep, rather desperately, but he knows that won’t happen.  
  
He merely lies there and watches the dark of night steadily grow bluer before it’s touched golden and he can begin another day.  
  
——  
  
Percy pays him forty-five dollars a month. Credence doesn’t dare ask why he’s getting such a large increase in salary, but Percy does mention that Credence must have some spunk to him, to have stayed for two weeks now.  
  
But he likes the work and he thinks he always will. Tending to the horses is tiring, heavy lifting and a lot of shoveling, but it makes the days go by quickly, in between all of his meal breaks.  
  
Percy teaches him more in the next two weeks than he thinks he learned in an entire year in Pennsylvania. He’s a terrible shot with a rifle but Percy says they’ll keep working on it until he’s not. He takes to riding a little bit better and Percy says it’s the height of him that makes it easier, but he’s not sure if he was teasing Credence or not.  
  
It takes a lot of Percy telling him to use a firm hand on the horses he exercises, not leaving the pastures yet, and eventually Credence realizes that a firm hand for a horse is not quite the same as a firm hand was for him. They’re sturdy after all, not as easily hurt as he expected, and they get used to him quickly enough. Percy eventually exercises all the other horses while Credence takes over the mares a few times a week, because otherwise they aren’t particularly inclined to be active. From the size of them and the size of the foals they’re carrying, Credence doesn’t really blame them.  
  
Percy tells him Maybelle will go into labor soon enough as they move through the end of April. He guesses another two weeks at most and Credence finds himself excited to see a foal. They’re fun to watch when the world is new and they aren’t so afraid, when they’re eager to play and run with their dams.  
  
Sometimes when Credence finds himself unable to sleep, he takes the rifle Percy had given him, though he hates holding it, and a lantern and goes to John’s pasture in front of the house. He only gets close enough to sit in the grass and watch the horse under the moonlight and decides one night that he will not take a lantern again, the way it lights up everything eerily. Lady sits with him, always alert, whenever she’s not asking for scratches anyway.  
  
John never comes close to the fence on those nights. The only time that Credence does it during the day is if Percy is down at the barn and Credence thinks Miss Hornwall probably isn’t watching him. But if Credence gets too close, John gets aggressive, charging the fence, his ears back and snorting angrily.  
  
He’s a big horse, sixty-seven inches at his withers, strong in the way Thoroughbreds are, likely with a massive length of stride, which led to all those trophies. He’s beautiful but his eyes roll in agitation whenever Credence is too near and he thinks he might kill him, if he were to ever go into the pasture. Not that he plans on it, but it’s a bit frightening.  
  
It’s also terribly sad but when he watches John from a distance, grazing on the grass or eating hay or looking around with interest, especially at the other horses across the road, Credence can see why Percy might not want to put him down.  
  
He’s only ever a horse when no one is near.  
  
Credence watches Percy dress him for a night of rain with a lot of apprehension one evening but John does let him do it, once Percy has calmed him down. He seems to understand this one thing will help him, but once Percy is done, John’s ears flatten and he tries to bite Percy, who dodges it easily enough.  
  
Percy shakes his head as he walks up to the house. “He’s going to take my fingers off one day,” he says but he’s smiling. “Dinner should be ready soon.”  
  
He squeezes Credence’s shoulder as he walks up the steps, where Credence is sitting, and he nods, smiling back. Credence looks out at John again and sighs as he watches him trot around his pasture in irritation.  
  
Miss Hornwall tells him later that evening, after dinner has been eaten and Percy has gone off to drink in his den, that she thinks it would be best to let John go, but she thinks Percy isn’t capable of it.  
  
And, despite the fact that Credence had been thinking the same himself, he finds himself angry. Hearing someone else suggest it hurts, in the middle of his chest, and he’s glad he hadn’t said the same thing to Percy. But he can’t be mad at Miss Hornwall, she’s nothing if not practical about all things, and Credence only mutters that perhaps one day he’ll calm down again.  
  
She merely pats him sympathetically on the shoulder.  
  
In the middle of May, Maybelle goes into labor, as Percy said she would. It’s early in the evening and they move her into a large prepared stall in the barn. She’s agitated, pacing and kicking at her abdomen. If she lays down at all, she’s up again in only a moment or two, but Credence has watched this a few handful of times now.  
  
It’s a messy business a few hours later, but the heavy labor starts and Percy and Credence wear thick gloves as they wait. It never takes all that long, Credence had realized, once their water breaks. He’d only seen it get to an hour once and that was a maiden mare, which Maybelle isn’t.  
  
The foal emerges, light brown in color with a dark mane and tail, and once Percy has broken the amniotic sack, letting the foal breathe and sit up, when he’s ready, they give them some room. The foal is healthy and alert relatively quickly but he won’t stand for an hour or two. Maybelle grooms him and Credence smiles as he watches them.  
  
Percy tells him to go get some dinner after a while and that he’ll call for him if he needs him. Credence is reluctant to leave but he does as Percy says and leaves his gloves and boots outside for washing later. Miss Hornwall has made a stew which she reheats for him and he tells her about the foal.  
  
She tells him to get a bath and leave Percy to it, since one of them will need to be rested in the morning, and Credence walks into the addition to get cleaned up. But he gets into clothes and a clean pair of boots and visits John instead.  
  
It’s not his foal, he knows, but Credence tells him all about him anyway, as John grazes nearby. It’s the closest he’s been at night and Credence talks quietly, so he might not spook him. But when it does get late and he stands, John trots to the other side of the pasture, huffing his displeasure anyway.  
  
When Credence is in bed later that night, trying to fall asleep, he realizes he’s been on the Graves Ranch for a month and a half now, to the day, and the first foal has been born. It’s not his own birthday, certainly, and yet it feels a bit like sharing one anyway.  
  
——  
  
Percy makes him name the foal and Credence thinks he should have expected it. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t cause him agony all the same, which seems to greatly amuse Percy, and Credence tries to be annoyed with him for it, but he can’t be.  
  
The foal has been turned out to a small pasture with Maybelle, keeping close to her side, bonded well, eyeing the other horses with interest but not getting any closer than his dam does.  
  
It takes Credence three days to come up with a name, too busy worrying about being made fun of. He’s still worried about that, but when he’s leaning on the fence with Percy one day and watching the foal, he decides to get it over with.  
  
“Quest,” Credence says and he’s sweating a little, but he tells himself it’s from the day, rapidly warming as they head toward June. He glances at Percy, who is watching the foal still, but there’s a smile on his face.  
  
Credence hates when he smiles like that, because it always sends his heart into a frantic rhythm and makes him feel guilty for having such a reaction to it.  
  
“Quest,” Percy repeats. He squints a little as he looks up at the sky, taking his hat off and running his fingers through his damp hair. “That’s a good one.” He looks at Credence then and smiles, clapping Credence on the shoulder. “He’s your burden now.”  
  
“He’s… huh?” Credence asks as he turns around and watches Percy walk off toward the barn. “What do you mean?”  
  
“Man name’s a horse, that makes it his horse,” Percy says without looking back. “I’ll leave him to you.”  
  
Credence blinks after him and thinks his heart really shouldn’t be beating any harder than it already was, but it is, and there’s something less wicked in it. Something warmer and he finds himself grinning as he looks back at the pasture.  
  
The foal is used to him and Percy, as is Maybelle, so when he enters the pasture, they only look curiously at him. Maybelle enjoys a scratch on her neck while Quest nibbles at his shoelaces, until he moves his boot away. Quest likes a good back scratch, so Credence gives him one and quietly tells him his name.  
  
He doesn’t seem to have any opinion on it, but that’s alright.  
  
Credence leaves the pasture and walks up toward the house, glancing at John’s pasture. He looks up at Credence, ears erect, but he goes back to grazing soon after.  
  
When Credence walks inside and toward the kitchen, Miss Hornwall waves a piece of mail.  
  
“For me?” Credence asks with more cheek than he’d give Percy.  
  
“Better you than Percy,” Miss Hornwall says. “Invitation to a party. Everybody who is anybody will be there, as they say. Formal occasion and all.”  
  
“I thought Mister Graves was a nobody these days,” Credence says as he eyes a steaming pile of freshly made biscuits on the counter.  
  
“Just because nobody likes him anymore doesn’t make him a nobody,” Miss Hornwall tsks. “It’s foal season and once the rains stop, Mister Fontaine will be up to take the yearlings back to the city and see what they’ve got in them. Percy is invited to these little parties because there will be offers on the horses.”  
  
“Will he sell them?” Credence asks and sighs when Miss Hornwall waggles her finger at him as he edges toward the biscuits.  
  
She shrugs. “One or two, yes, keep the best for himself, of course,” she says. “They love to lowball him but he’s been at this long enough that he squeezes every cent out of them. Probably leaves them in tears after. But it keeps this place going as finely as it does. Not to mention the won races.”  
  
Credence smiles at that. “I can’t really see Mister Graves getting dressed up and going to a party, even if it’s to sell horses.”  
  
“He cleans up rather well, I have to say,” Miss Hornwall says. “He’ll be getting marriage offers too.” She chuckles when she looks at Credence. “Don’t worry, dear boy, he’s as good at leaving their fathers in tears about that as well.”  
  
It still makes Credence feel a bit queasy. “What if he decides he likes one of their daughters someday?”  
  
Miss Hornwall laughs. “That’ll be the day my hair turns brown again,” she says with a smile. “Even when he was a boy he didn’t much fancy romances. He tried a few times, when his father made him, but it was a miserable affair for everyone involved.”  
  
“He never found the right woman, I suppose?”  
  
“I don’t think the right woman exists, dear,” Miss Hornwall says with a softer smile as she looks out of the window. “He’s kept himself to himself ever since he was a young child. If he ever married, it won’t be for love and it would be because of a more dire circumstance. Let’s hope that doesn't reach us.”  
  
Credence looks out of the window as well, as Percy drives from the barn up to the house. Lady’s in the back and she leaps out as soon as he stops the truck and Credence opens the door as she runs to it.  
  
He scratches her until Miss Hornwall is busying herself with frying pork chops and he steals a biscuit, heading out of the kitchen as Percy comes in, because he’s still mildly embarrassed about being gifted a horse. Quest isn’t _really_ his own, but he’s Credence’s to raise either way.  
  
“I do believe we have a thief on our hands, Miss Hornwall,” Percy’s voice says behind him.  
  
“Yes, well,” Miss Hornwall says dryly, “that makes two, doesn’t it?”  
  
Credence grins and walks into the addition as he takes a bite of the hot biscuit and grabs _Huckleberry Finn._ He sits on the sofa to read for a while, until Miss Hornwall is done with lunch, and he’s left the door open, but he doesn’t expect to see Percy show up.  
  
“Sorry,” Credence mutters, his mouth full, but Percy only smiles in amusement. Credence nods when he gestures and Percy walks in, glancing around.  
  
It’s not much different than when Credence first came in, beyond his second pair of boots and a few small items he keeps on the nightstand. Percy frowns as he looks at the bookshelf, then at Credence.  
  
“How many times have you read that?”  
  
Credence blinks. “Umm. Three, I think. What I can anyway,” he says and blushes, regretting it. “But I’ve become better at reading now.”  
  
Percy sighs. “I cleared these shelves years ago and put the books in my den when no one was staying in here. Please feel free to take anything from there. _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_ is fine enough, but not something you’re sentenced to,” he says and smirks a little as Credence grimaces. “I’m sorry, I should have thought of that beforehand.”  
  
“No, no, it’s fine,” Credence says. “I do like it. I think anything else might be a bit harder for me.”  
  
“I have others by Twain, if you like his style,” Percy says. “And others you’d probably enjoy too. Now, if I gave you _Ulysses,_ we both might have problems.”  
  
 _“Ulysses?”_ Credence repeats.  
  
Percy waves his hand dismissively. “Come by the den after dinner and we’ll pick out an armful,” he says as he looks at the shelves.  
  
They are a little sad, empty the way they are.  
  
“Alright,” Credence says and smiles as he looks at the book. “Thank you, sir.”  
  
“You’re welcome, Credence,” Percy says and sounds faintly amused. “I need to make a run around some of the land tomorrow. You’re probably ready to join me now.”  
  
Percy has places on his land that he checks on, Credence knows that, but it’s the first time he’s been told he’ll join him. Probably because Percy thinks he might stay on his horse over rougher terrain now.  
  
“Though you might be sore afterward,” Percy adds with a chuckle. “Miss Hornwall will pack a lunch. Late morning to early evening. You up for it?”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Credence says, because he hardly wants to say no and disappoint Percy. Or hear Percy tell him he wasn’t actually being given a choice.  
  
“Good man,” Percy says and winks. “Ten minutes and lunch will be ready.”  
  
Credence nods and watches Percy walk out, biting his lip and turning back to the book. He despairs over handsome men again, but it’s getting easier to be around Percy. His heart still makes a nuisance out of itself, bouncing all around and fluttering occasionally, but he’s learning to ignore it.  
  
Thankfully the last time Percy shot at a bear, he’d been fully dressed, and Credence hasn’t seen him as anything but that since.  
  
His heart probably can’t take it anyway.  
  
Of course, when he’s sitting at the table shortly after, he thinks his heart may give out early anyway as he watches Percy eye the invitation for a long while.  
  
He finally sighs and looks at Credence. “I hate black tie events,” he says rather imploringly.  
  
Credence smiles and spears a piece of broccoli. “I hear you make good money at them,” he says and takes a bite.  
  
Percy grimaces. “Maybe so,” he says. “But I hate them all the same. At least I don’t have to pay for the whiskey I drink there.”  
  
“And you don’t have to hire anyone to look after the horses for a night,” Credence says with a smile.  
  
Percy turns the invitation toward him. “You mean you’re not going to be my plus one?”  
  
Credence coughs a little and blushes, scowling at Percy when he laughs. “That’s the last place I belong, sir.”  
  
“You’re right,” Percy says. “Well, not about that, you’d fit in well with higher society. Not that they wouldn’t sniff you out as a city man, but I’m sure you could go toe to toe with them if you set your mind to it. But you are right that I won’t have to hire anyone for a night. You’ll do fine on your own and Miss Hornwall will be here.”  
  
Credence is still blushing and he takes a long drink of his water. “I know,” he mumbles. “Though I’m not sure what I’ll do if a bear comes by.”  
  
“Aim and shoot.”  
  
“I’d probably hit a conveniently placed piece of metal and get hit by the ricochet instead.”  
  
Percy smirks as he turns back to his dinner. “More target practice for you then, Mister Barebone.”  
  
Credence sighs.  
  
It’s his least favorite thing about living on the ranch, but he supposes he’d rather have a rifle on him all the same if he needed one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I saw the second movie, I promptly pretended it didn't exist and I wasn't a part of fandom until this May and I truly thought my main man Credence was 19 in FB1 and I was told he was in fact 26 according to canon! It was refreshing to write him older in this fic.
> 
> A huge suspension of disbelief might be required for some of this, I do not work on a horse ranch nor know how Thoroughbred racing is handled, especially in these times, beyond some research ^^;
> 
> I absolutely got this whole idea listening to the song on repeat one day.


	2. Chapter 2

After feeding and watering the horses and having breakfast, Miss Hornwall makes them a lunch to take as they get the horses saddled.  
  
Credence is riding Missy, who he knows is named that for her occasional attitude, but she’s a good horse for traversing the land. Percy’s on the horse he always takes, a red chestnut, twelve years old and a retired racing horse, by the name of Red Jack.  
  
They leave the pastures after Miss Hornwall gives them their packed lunches and cross the river where it’s low and safest and ride off into the wilderness. Credence gazes around at the trees, at the peaks not far away in the distance, and hears woodpeckers and sees squirrels darting back and forth across the long worn path he follows Percy down.  
  
Percy points some things out to him, mostly which direction he can go to find certain places, but today they’re checking on traps he’d left out four or five days ago. Foxes have been after the chicken coop with a bit more tenacity and though Lady keeps most of them away, they’d lost two hens before Credence had been able to get outside to chase the fox off.  
  
There’s abundant food for them right now, Credence knows, but an easy meal is always the best meal.  
  
Only one trap has a fox in it, dead, and Percy leaves it for another enterprising animal to have its way with it before they continue on. Percy had told Credence it was the last small trap and he hasn’t said what else he likes to check on, but Credence rides with him all the same and takes in the truly breathtaking scenery.  
  
They cross a creek that leads down to a small waterfall which flows into the wider creek below and Percy holds up his hand as he stops his horse. Credence stops too and looks at where Percy is pointing, down past the waterfall, and it takes Credence a while of squinting before he sees them.  
  
White-tailed deer, just at the edge of the treeline, gazing up at them as they look back. There’s a large buck and quite a few does, as well as fawns.  
  
Credence has seen quite a few deer by now but there’s something different about them here. About West Virginia altogether and he’d thought that the moment he crossed the state line into it.  
  
Eventually Percy spurs Red Jack on and Credence follows. His ass is getting sore and his knees are going to kill him tomorrow, he suspects, and he’ll only try to hide his discomfort. If he doesn’t do this more often, he’ll never get used to it.  
  
There are other traps, it turns out, bigger ones for bigger animals, but Percy says the one that had anything in it doesn’t anymore. Stolen by trespassers, most likely, but he doesn’t sound angry about it, beyond breezily mentioning that one day they’ll regret it. They begin to go east after that, back toward the river, and after a few miles, they leave the trees and Credence looks at the river, wide and calm, not deep at all. He can see the stones at its bottom. There’s a waterfall back further and the water is deeper there, certainly, a pool of sorts, and Credence has a brief moment of panic, wondering if this is where Percy and Johnnie Walker encountered the storm, but he’s too scared to ask.  
  
Percy suggests lunch and Credence is all too glad to get off of Missy and tie her to a tree. He’s a little bow-legged but Percy only smirks and doesn’t say anything about it as he walks to a large boulder, flattened by water over time, when the river is high. They sit together and unpack the lunches Miss Hornwall gave to them.  
  
Credence munches on an apple as he watches the water, the sunlight glinting brightly off it, a few tiny fish darting here and there. He looks up at the trees, at the peaks and breathes in the smell of pine. It’s so peaceful here, something he’s wished for all his life.  
  
Peace and he’s only just found it. He hopes he can keep it.  
  
“I was born in New York,” he says and he doesn’t know why he does, but it feels right.  
  
“Oh?” Percy asks around a mouthful of sandwich. “Where at?”  
  
“Manhattan,” Credence says and bites his lip.  
  
“Excuse me? Are you telling me you’re a _city_ man, Mister Barebone? _The_ city man, some might say,” Percy says. “All this time, I’ve been thinking you might be one of us. But you’re nothing more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”  
  
“Alright, alright,” Credence says with a smile, shaking his head. “I didn’t choose to be born there, you know. But I knew I didn’t belong there all the same. It just took me a while to get out here.”  
  
“You do fit out here well,” Percy says, smiling as he looks at Credence. “You’ve taken to it all well. Better than I thought you might.”  
  
Credence smiles and looks down at his apple. “I told you I had some experience, Percy, sir.”  
  
“More wet behind the ears than any other man I’ve taken on,” Percy says and chuckles when Credence shoots him a look. “What made you go on your quest?”  
  
Credence smiles more at that and takes a bite of the apple. He looks around as he chews and shrugs. “I felt like I didn’t belong in the city because I was told every day I didn’t belong,” he says. “I started to believe it one day. Saved up some money to go south and decided New Jersey was even worse. Things started making more sense in Pennsylvania.”  
  
“No more shoe-shiners and no more derbies to doff at pretty ladies,” Percy says wryly. “Nothing but trees and animals and people browned and tempered by the sun.”  
  
“You make it sound worse than it is,” Credence says and smiles as he looks at Percy. “I like nothing but trees and animals. Maybe not so much temperamental employers but I don’t think you could be one if you tried, sir.”  
  
“Don’t make it sound like a challenge,” Percy says. “You’ve never seen me angry.”  
  
 _No,_ Credence thinks, _I haven’t. But I’ve heard your stories, I’ve heard what you’ve done for Lady and Johnnie Walker and I’ve heard what you’ve done for other people when you’re not around and Miss Hornwall has put too much spirit in her tea for the evening. I’ve heard about you, Percy Graves, and you’re not an angry man. You’re soft in the way all men should be soft and hard only when it actually matters._  
  
But Credence doesn’t say that. He merely takes another bite of the apple and shrugs. “Hopefully I never do anything to anger you.”  
  
“I doubt that you could, Credence,” Percy says and it’s a little more quiet. There’s a solemness to it that Credence doesn’t quite understand and when he looks at Percy, he’s only gazing up at the sky. “I’d like to keep you on, as long as you’re interested.”  
  
Credence’s heart leaps away, in that way it does, always frustrating. He smiles and chews on his lip. “Thank you,” he says. “I want to stay on, sir. I do like it here very much.”  
  
“Miss Hornwall and Lady like you plenty,” Percy says with a smile. “They wouldn’t like to see you go. Horses might even miss you if you did.”  
  
“I suppose I’ll just have to stay then,” Credence says and he’s smiling, hard enough to hurt, turning away from Percy and looking at the waterfall. His eyes sting but a few blinks get rid of that. “Hopefully I’ll make winter a little easier on everyone.”  
  
“You already make ranch life a little easier on everyone,” Percy says as he takes off his hat. He sets it down on the rock and runs his hands through his dark hair, which inevitably falls over his forehead.  
  
Credence sighs and looks away again.  
  
“You ever swim in a river, Credence?”  
  
Credence looks at Percy quickly then, blinking at him. “No,” he says slowly and suspiciously. “Swimming in the east river is generally considered a bad idea.”  
  
Percy laughs. “Well, I wouldn’t know about that,” he says. “It’s the ponds you want to watch out for here but rivers are safe.”  
  
“Why the ponds?” Credence asks and he feels sweat under his collar when Percy begins to take off his boots. He has the desire to stop him, to pretend the heat of the sun is getting to him, anything, because this will kill him. Percy will kill him if he gets naked right in front of him.  
  
Or it will be inevitably how he ruins it all.  
  
“Leeches,” Percy says. “In June the river gets more tolerable as far as temperature goes. My mother hated it when my sister and I went swimming in April. Said we’d catch out death but we only caught enjoyment, something else she wasn’t fond of.”  
  
Credence grabs his sandwich and takes a large bite when Percy begins to unbutton his shirt and furtively sends a prayer to whatever god may be out there that he keeps his underclothes on.  
  
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Credence says, because that thought makes his head swim as much as Percy’s shirt falling on top of his hat.  
  
“Well, I did. She died a long time ago,” Percy says. “But swimming in the river seems a proper way to honor her. Better than the old man ever did.”  
  
“Oh,” Credence says with a frown. “I’m sorry. What, umm… what was her name?”  
  
“Eliza,” Percy says and there’s a smile in his voice, thank goodness.  
  
Credence is still sweating, beads of it across his forehead now, and he thinks about investing in a hat like Percy, but the thought of looking ridiculous in one always stops him. He thinks nothing would scream _city man_ more than him trying to wear a cowboy hat.  
  
He covers his eyes, making a show of rubbing them, when Percy’s trousers come off but thankfully, when Credence glances at him as he walks to the water, he’s kept his underclothes on. Though he is the type not to wear a cotton shirt with them, of course he is, and Credence looks at his muscular back and the jagged scars on it.  
  
Credence tries to think of Johnnie Walker then, scarred in a different way, but he feels sweat run along his temple, not at all from the heat of the day, and thinks it’s a fitting punishment. The devil’s way to remind him he’s wicked. Because as much as Credence would like to look away, he simply can’t, as he watches Percy get into the water near the waterfall, deep enough to swim in. He goes under and when he comes up, his hair is long and dark over his eyes, until he swipes it back, and Credence thinks this is torture, absolute torture.  
  
He has half a mind to think Percy is doing it on purpose before that thought promptly horrifies him. Of course he’s not, he’s said why he’s doing it, and Credence, so used to not praying anymore, prays for the forgiveness of that thought. He tries to eat his sandwich and not stare, but he thinks of Eve and the apple tree and temptation being the reason for humanity’s punishment to begin with.  
  
“You’re not afraid of a little water, are you, Mister Barebone?” Percy asks.  
  
Alright, he might be doing it on purpose, but to what ends, Credence doesn’t know. If it’s to make him cry, he’s steadily getting there. He coughs a little and sets his sandwich down.  
  
“I don’t know how to swim,” he says and for once, is thoroughly happy to admit that to someone.  
  
Percy raises his eyebrows. “No time like the present.”  
  
Credence blushes and scoffs. “I’m not learning how to swim today,” he says. “I’ll drown and you’ll be left with no hands again.”  
  
Percy laughs. “It’s only about two feet deeper than you are tall back this way,” he says, pointing at the waterfall. “You’ll have a foothold anywhere else.”  
  
“I am…” Credence trails off, because saying _not making a fool out of myself in front of you_ doesn’t sound particularly good. “No, thank you,” is what he settles on, but Percy only smirks.  
  
“You’ve conquered rifles and birthing foals and encounters with a bear,” he says. “Miss Hornwall, even.”  
  
“I have not conquered anything,” Credence says. “Especially not a rifle. Or Miss Hornwall.”  
  
“Worming your way into her steel heart is close enough,” Percy says. “You are right about the rifle. But the same as you’ll learn how to use it, you can learn how to swim.”  
  
Credence groans and wrinkles his nose as he stares down at Percy. “We don’t have anything to dry off with.”  
  
“I always keep spare blankets in my saddle bags,” Percy says dryly. “But the sun does a fine job of it as well.”  
  
“What about my clothes?”  
  
“People typically swim without being fully clothed, Credence.”  
  
Credence scowls a little. “You’re wearing clothes.”  
  
“Sun can get those too.”  
  
Credence hopes a bear comes around and ends his suffering. It would be kinder than living like this, watching his employer swim lazily in the water. At least he can’t see anything past his chest, but that’s a bit frightening in itself. Who knows what lurks down there?  
  
When Percy raises an eyebrow at him, Credence thinks his only saving grace will be the fact that the water will no doubt still be cool and he’s feeling far too overheated. He sighs and pulls his boots and socks off. He stands and unbuttons his shirt and thankfully Percy turns away, moving back toward the waterfall, and Credence makes quick work of his clothes. Though he leaves his cotton shirt on with his underclothes and gets off the boulder, walking down to the water. Percy is looking at him again as he tests it and hisses.  
  
“It’s freezing!”  
  
“Not nearly as cold as you think it is,” Percy chuckles. “Your body will get used to it. Better to get it over with than come in slow.”  
  
Credence isn’t about to make a dive in and he clenches his hands into fists as he walks down the slippery river rocks, trying to keep his balance. “Oh, I’m never doing this again,” he mutters and glares at Percy as he laughs, loud enough to echo off the water. “I’m going to hand in my formal resignation.”  
  
Percy is still chuckling, but his smile is fond and he shakes his head. “If you’re going to make the mountains of West Virginia home, you best start acting like everyone else here,” he says. “Including swimming in the rivers.”  
  
“They’re going to point at me floating face down along it and pick me out as a city man even before they retrieve me,” Credence says and tries to stop his teeth from chattering. He realizes the morbidity of what he’s said with a start but Percy is only laughing again, like he actually finds Credence amusing.  
  
No one does, but he won’t think about that too closely anytime soon.  
  
Credence gets to his hips and holds his hands above the water, his shoulders arched up. “Can we do the rest another time?”  
  
Percy smiles and moves closer to him, until he’s standing as well, and Credence keeps his eyes fixed on Percy’s, so he doesn’t stare at his faintly hairy, tanned chest and the water rivulets running down it. He offers his hand to Credence and Credence sighs, taking it.  
  
His palm is cool but not as cool as Credence was expecting. He doesn’t pull Credence, only backs away when Credence moves forward, scrunching up his face at the cold water. But when he gets down to his shoulders, he realizes his legs and lower half aren’t feeling so cold anymore. Credence has never been in water this deep and when his foot slips on a slimy stone, he grabs onto Percy’s shoulders.  
  
“Sorry,” he says, once he realizes what he’s done, pulling his hands back.  
  
But Percy shakes his head and grabs them again, putting them back. “No, it’s a good idea, because we’re going a little deeper,” he says and smiles when Credence scowls. “Don’t kick frantically. Just with a bit of strength until you figure out what’s needed to keep your head above water. You’ll only be a few inches from the bottom.”  
  
Credence doesn’t care how hard he’s gripping Percy’s shoulders, thinks he might deserve it for putting him through this, but Percy is as patient and easygoing as he always is. Credence keeps his toes on the rocks for as long as he can but eventually it’s too deep and though his arms are shaking with the effort, he kicks the way Percy had told him to and manages to not flail about.  
  
“Relax a little,” Percy says and moves his hand to Credence’s shoulder, rubbing it until it’s not so close to his ear anymore.  
  
It does get easier then, when he steadily relaxes his shoulders, his body not so tense. He’s able to kick his feet more languidly and he knows Percy must be doing the same, but he makes it look easy. He makes everything look easy. Credence stares at the water and can’t even see his feet, which makes goosebumps break out on his skin.  
  
“Is there, umm… does anything bigger swim down here?” he asks as he looks at Percy.  
  
Percy smiles. “Not right here, no. Just those small fish you saw,” he says. “Farther out, where the river is deep all the way across, there are plenty of bigger fish. Carp and bass and catfish.”  
  
“Do you eat those?”  
  
“Spotted bass, yes, and blue catfish too,” Percy says as they ease their way around the large pool at the base of the waterfall. “I’ve never liked fish much but Miss Hornwall’s battered and fried catfish isn’t so bad.”  
  
“I never had any fish until I got to Pennsylvania,” Credence says as he looks at Percy and smiles a little, when Percy does, like he expected that. “It took me a while to get used to and I still don’t really like it.”  
  
“We’ll go fishing, get a catfish or two,” Percy says. “See if you like them better that way.”  
  
Credence smiles again. He thinks he likes the idea of fishing with Percy far more than swimming with him, but that might be because they will both be fully dressed.  
  
He doesn’t expect Percy to move out of his reach and for a brief moment he thinks he might panic, his heart in his throat and his hands slashing at the water, but he remembers what Percy said and how he could see Percy’s arms moving and tries to copy that, before he sinks to the bottom like a lead weight.  
  
It’s frightening but he manages to keep his chin above water, frowning in concentration as he watches Percy, who is gazing at him still, and the small smile he’s wearing is incredibly distracting.  
  
“Okay, okay,” Credence says after a while of this and Percy laughs, moving closer and grasping Credence’s arms until he finds his hands.  
  
Percy gently guides him back until he feels sand and slippery stones beneath his feet again. Once he’s standing up to his chest, he sighs in relief and looks at Percy, shaking his head.  
  
“Please only ask me to do that once a year.”  
  
Percy chuckles. “You’ll be asking to do it by July,” he says with a smirk. “Not a lot of ways to cool down when the sun beats down on the house and the ranch.”  
  
Credence watches as he walks up further and looks skyward, because those underclothes are unfortunately white, but thankfully when Percy sits down in shallower water, his waist down is still covered. Credence is more hesitant to walk out of the water himself but Percy looks upward as well and Credence thinks he’s teasing him again, but he takes the opportunity to walk to the bank and sit down as well, with a soft sigh.  
  
The water does feel good now, warmer, and the sun is even better, though he suspects he might come out of this with a sunburn. He burned so easily at first, but his body is steadily edging toward slightly less pale under the sun versus cherry red and peeling badly for days at a time.  
  
“You did as well as you do with everything,” Percy says after a while.  
  
Credence glances at him and smiles a little, looking back at the waterfall. “You’re a good teacher, you know,” he says. “People not coming to your ranch to work for you are missing out on an opportunity to learn things they probably don’t know, even if they’re from around here. The people I worked for before told me how to do things once and expected me to be good at them immediately.”  
  
“Well,” Percy sighs. “My father was of that mindset and it made life difficult for me. I find if you teach someone how to do something with patience until they understand it, they learn other things faster. You’re a good example of that.”  
  
Credence’s cheeks are warm and he smiles again, looking up at the sky, brilliantly blue, only a few wisps of clouds overhead. “I know I still have a lot to learn,” he says quietly. “But thank you for giving me the opportunity.”  
  
“Thank _you_ for giving me the opportunity to have you. If anyone but Hollis had found you, you would’ve been at someone else’s ranch and I would have been missing your company without knowing it.”  
  
Credence’s heart seizes at that and he continues to look at the sky, his cheeks warm, because he’s afraid to look at Percy. It’s a kind thing to say, but not also something he thinks Percy would say to everyone. He certainly can’t look at it as anything other than the company of his friendship, because if he does, he will ruin it. Put a rift between them, until he’s forced to move on, and that’s the last thing he wants to do.  
  
“I’m glad he pointed me your way,” Credence says carefully. “When is that fancy party you’re going to?” he asks, anything to get away from something too intimate, too familiar.  
  
Percy doesn’t answer immediately. He sighs softly first and says, “In two and a half weeks. Plenty of time for me to agonize about it.”  
  
“You’ll be home the morning after?”  
  
“Formal breakfast and tea and then I’ll be free. So around noon, I would imagine. Not too long.”  
  
Credence nods and glances at Percy, but he’s staring off at the trees, not looking at Credence. He takes a moment to take him in, the little moles on his cheek and his thick, dark eyebrows. His hair, dripping with water still, hanging over his forehead and brushing over the tip of his ear.  
  
Not to mention the rest of him, but it would be immensely impolite and wicked to stare.  
  
He’s a little tired of thinking of himself as wicked but it’s a thought he’s never quite been able to shake.  
  
Percy is an incredibly handsome man and Credence finds the idea of him dressed up and at some ritzy party with finely dressed men and women, selling off his horses and dealing with whatever nonsense high society likes to talk about rather unbearable. Men will be shoving their daughters at him and though Miss Hornwall had been very confident in what she had said, he still wonders.  
  
Ten years of eating meals alone, even if Credence is there now, had to have taken some kind of toll on him.  
  
Credence looks away then and at the waterfall ahead. It really is a beautiful place, a beautiful slice of nature for Percy to call his own, and he wonders what life might have been like, if Credence had been raised here. If Percy had been raised in the city. He wonders what he would have done.  
  
He would have probably been a banker, he thinks wryly, rich and unattainable all the same.  
  
Not that Credence is trying to attain him.  
  
Credence hears a noise and looks around, at the boulder they had been sitting on and frowns. “There goes my sandwich,” he mutters as he watches a squirrel attempt to run off with it, barely half eaten.  
  
Percy chuckles. “You should have another one in your pack,” he says. “Miss Hornwall always packs two.”  
  
“Yes, I think I saw a second one,” Credence says.  
  
Another squirrel appears then and bites his pack, beginning to try and drag it across the rock. Credence, with quite a lot of trouble because of the slippery rocks and his underclothes being weighed down by water, scrambles up and hurries over to shoo them away. They dart up a nearby tree and he sighs as he hears Percy laughing.  
  
“You nearly cost me my lunch,” he says as he closes his pack and glances at the horses. They’re watching him with interest and he hears Percy moving around in the water and his footsteps behind him. “You owe me a sandwich, you know.”  
  
“Do I?” Percy asks as he moves to stand next to Credence, grabbing his own pack, the muscles in his arms tightening with the movement, a few droplets of water sliding down them.  
  
Credence’s mouth is dry and he curses himself for leaving his canteen on the saddle, because he’s not able to pull his clothes over his wet underclothes. He peels his cotton shirt off and lays it out over the rock so it might dry faster.  
  
Percy hands him a second sandwich and Creence looks at him, his cheeks warm, and has the desire to brush Percy’s hair away from his forehead.  
  
“Oh, erm, I was only joking,” he says a little breathlessly. “I’ll manage until dinner with what I have.”  
  
“If you say so,” Percy says with a shrug and easy smile. “We’ve got a couple hours back yet.”  
  
Credence nods. “I’ll be okay,” he says. “Thank you.” He looks back up at the trees, at the squirrels, who seem to be eager for them to leave their food unintended again.  
  
He thinks it’s a good thing he looked away, because Percy’s underclothes end up on the flat boulder and he stiffens a little, ashamed of the heat he feels in his face and in his belly. But Percy grabs his trousers and pulls them on and when Credence hears them zip, he lets out a shuddering sigh of relief.  
  
Percy sits on the boulder and pulls his socks and boots on before walking to the horses and grabbing both of their canteens. Credence takes his gratefully and takes a long drink, until his head begins to feel like it’s less filled with nothing.  
  
Credence would like to do the same thing, so he doesn’t feel quite as exposed, and Percy must realize it because he smirks and turns away a little.  
  
“Forgive me for any frankness,” he says lightly. “When I used to have friends, we’d all go to whatever lake or river we felt like and no one cared much about propriety. Not like they do in the city.”  
  
Credence is blushing again but he gets out of his underclothes and pulls his trousers on quickly all the same, a bit uncomfortable, but dry and less obscene.  
  
“Well, there are the bathhouses in New York,” Credence says as he sits down and pulls his socks and boots on. “Not a lot of propriety in those. Not that I ever went to any,” he hastens to say.  
  
“Because of what goes on in New York’s bathhouses? We hear rumors even here,” Percy says, when Credence shoots him a wary look.  
  
“Yes and no,” Credence mutters. “I never went because the ones used for religious purposes my mother still considered sinful. But she considered most of everything sinful.” He moves around and sits on the boulder again, sighing and looking out at the river. “She would have killed me for going into one. Even the, erm… well…”  
  
“Less sinful ones?” Percy asks and there’s something harder to his tone that Credence doesn’t understand. “A normal bathhouse.”  
  
“Yes,” Credence sighs in relief. “Religious or otherwise normal were already sinful enough for her because of how some of the others were used. She said if I went I’d come back unnatural, touched by the unnaturalness there.”  
  
“Your mother sounds like a peach,” Percy says.  
  
There’s something strange in his voice again and Credence frowns. It’s almost mean and he can’t fathom why. The idea of Percy being mean is strange enough as it is.  
  
“I don’t particularly think so,” Credence says quietly and looks down at his hands, loosening them a little, when he realizes he’s been clasping them tightly in his lap.  
  
They’re quiet for some time and there’s tension Credence simply doesn’t understand. It had been going so well and he knows he’s said something to offend Percy, but the more he thinks about it, the less he’s sure what it could have been.  
  
Percy sighs after a while. “My apologies, Mister Barebone,” he says. “That was rude of me to say about your mother when it’s clear what she’s done to you.”  
  
Credence blinks a little before he stiffens, clasping his hands tightly again. He’d been so damn distracted by Percy and the entire lot of it that he’d taken his shirt off in front of him and hadn’t thought about the consequences. Percy clearly doesn’t mind Credence seeing his own scars, but those were an accident, and Credence’s are very obviously not.  
  
His eyes sting unexpectedly and he frowns, because he’s shed enough tears over what’s been done to him. “It’s alright,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry for offending you.”  
  
“You didn’t,” Percy says. “Truly,” he adds, when Credence frowns further. “No harm done. But I think we should get moving so we’re home before the sun sets.”  
  
Credence nods and pulls his shirt on, grabbing his still damp underclothes and walking to the horses with Percy. He unties Missy from the tree and watches as Percy does the same with Red. There’s no carefree way to his shoulders, no easy smile to give to Credence when he mounts Red. Credence is entirely sure he’s offended him still, but he thinks Percy is too polite to tell him so. It makes him a little angry, because he doesn’t think Percy would be too polite to tell anyone else when they’ve been offensive.  
  
He wonders what Percy really thinks of him. If he thinks he’s delicate, especially now that he’s seen his scars. But Credence has proven himself on the ranch. He may be nervous sometimes but he’s not delicate and he’s ready to do just about everything Percy asks of him.  
  
Even swimming.  
  
It hurts now, Credence thinks, as he gets onto Missy and follows Percy down the river. He wants to tell Percy to tell him what he did wrong so he can make it right, to not treat him delicately because he’s long past that, but he can’t get the words out. It could ruin it all, as far as he knows, and he’s still trying desperately to make sure that doesn’t happen.  
  
But hadn’t Percy only just said he doubts Credence could ever make him angry?  
  
They ride mostly in silence, except for Percy pointing out some things that are on his land, and Credence really should be listening, but he’s stewing more than he is paying attention. He still hums politely and follows Percy’s finger but it’s hard to care about the sheep herds that move through his land in the summer when he’s wondering if Percy thinks he’s just a sheep himself.  
  
Scared of his own shadow.  
  
But the more his thoughts spin wildly out of control, the faster time moves. They eventually cross the river, low and narrow, and after riding through a bit of forest, the valley opens up before them. The familiar horse pastures, the horses in them and the house, Percy’s truck parked near the front. Johnnie Walker, so small from this distance, and little Quest, who he can barely see.  
  
It’s a comforting sight and no place he’s been has ever made his heart feel this full. Feel this right. This is home and he’s been offered it for as long as he wants it. He wants it forever and only hopes as he and Percy continue to get to know each other, it will be easier, if something passes between them. Something they can discuss and move on from, which Credence isn’t quite brave enough to do now.  
  
They ride across the property and to the barn just as the sun is beginning to set. Percy mentions checking on the mares and Credence works on taking the horses’ saddles and riding gear off. He gives them a good brush down in their stalls before filling buckets with some oats, smiling as he watches them eat from them. Percy brings in two horses and Credence walks down to the pasture to bring in Maybelle and Quest.  
  
He watches them get settled in their straw filled stall, warm and comfortable, with fresh hay and water. He scratches Maybelle’s neck and wishes Quest a good night before he leaves the barn and closes it up. Percy’s already gone to the house but Lady is there to greet him and he pats her head as they walk back to the house. By the time he reaches the porch, the sunset has turned the land blazing orange and red and violet and he takes a moment to stop and look around.  
  
New York never gave him views like this.  
  
Credence walks inside and smells hearty beef stew, one of his favorites from Miss Hornwall, who is at the stove. Percy’s nowhere to be seen and Credence sighs a little.  
  
“Not often he takes a nightcap before dinner,” Miss Hornwall says dryly. “I hope he hasn’t offended you too badly.”  
  
Credence blushes. “Erm, I think I offended him,” he mumbles. “May I… may I take mine to my room?”  
  
Miss Hornwall looks at him, appraising him. “You can do whatever you’d like, dear,” she says. “Your company at the table isn’t required by law.”  
  
She pours him a large bowl of stew with two pieces of freshly made sourdough bread and he hurries out into the addition, closing the door behind himself. He sets his food down on the end table near the sofa and gets out of his clothes, into something fresher and more comfortable. It hasn’t been that long since his sandwich, but he’s starving now, and eats quickly, trying not to think about Percy.  
  
He won’t need to leave his room anymore tonight for work and he’s relieved by it. He reads _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,_ a children’s book, but it’s easier to read, more enjoyable and fun for it, the language and logic of it all very loosely played. It still takes him a while to read, but he does so until the moon is high in the sky and he looks out of his window, up at the back of the house. He sees no lights on and pulls his boots on.  
  
Credence leaves the addition and walks to John’s pasture, Lady meeting him as usual, and he sits down in the grass. It’s a bright moon tonight, John more easily visible to him, but he moves closer, until he’s not but ten feet from Credence, grazing.  
  
He tells John about his time out with Percy and how he thinks he might have a welt on his inner thigh and that he might walk bow-legged for a day or two, but that the scenery was beautiful. That the river was too, but John doesn’t seem bothered by that. He tells him that Percy is a frustrating man when he wants to be and thinks John’s gentle snort might be one of agreement.  
  
It’s not until he’s yawning that he decides to get up and John looks at him, erect as usual when Credence is moving about, but he doesn’t flinch and trot angrily away. Credence watches him for a while and smiles a little before he turns away.  
  
“Go protect the chickens,” he tells Lady as he scratches her ears. She runs off to do just that, he imagines, and Credence walks back toward the addition, glancing up at the house.  
  
He sees a curtain move and his heart skips a beat, his stomach churning, but there are no lights on. Perhaps it had merely been a breeze from another open window, though Credence doesn’t really believe that. He can only hope it wasn’t Percy, who will tell him to leave John alone, he imagines.  
  
Credence walks into the addition and gets ready for bed, tired and sore and aching, aching in more than just his body. But he falls asleep quickly and the sun rises to greet him even quicker and he wonders how long it might be before asking for a day off is appropriate.  
  
——  
  
They move past it well enough, Credence thinks. That first breakfast is a bit awkward but watching Quest, after they’ve fed and watered and groomed the horses, is enough to brighten anyone’s spirits.  
  
Credence gets him used to being handled by spending an hour or two in the pasture with him when he can spare the time. Quest follows him as often as he follows his dam and very soon there will be a second foal to entertain.  
  
Percy guesses two weeks again and Credence dearly hopes he’s right, because he thinks he might have an episode if one of the mares goes into labor and Percy is off at his overnight party.  
  
He tells Miss Hornwall about his worry, but she only says that she’s not completely useless, and he feels a little better. He knows complications can arise but Miss Hornwall has been here all of Percy’s life, so she must be used to them and what to do if they happen.  
  
But Percy and Credence get back on steadier ground quickly enough. It’s easy again, smiling at each other, and Percy still teases Credence, but it’s never mean-spirited. He gives him more books to read and invites him into the den to have drinks with him occasionally, though Credence never has alcohol.  
  
He doesn’t say anything about Johnnie Walker and neither does Miss Hornwall, and Credence wonders if he’d been seeing things that night. But it doesn’t scare him away. He still visits John almost every night and tells him about his days and sometimes John comes closer and sometimes he keeps his distance.  
  
Sometimes he startles if Credence stands too quickly and other times he merely looks at him, like he’s trying to figure Credence out.  
  
The night before Percy is off to his fancy party, he tells Credence he doesn’t think Miranda will go into labor over the next few days. It’s only a mild relief, mostly because these things are unpredictable, and he knows Percy is going to be entertaining ladies and gentlemen, however much he hates doing so.  
  
Credence takes oats with him that night to Johnnie Walker’s pasture. He stands at the fence, instead of sitting in front of it, and John shows his agitation by pacing on the other end of the pasture. But Credence holds the bag of oats over the fence and shakes it now and then. Not often, merely to let John know it’s there, and he eventually calms down.  
  
It could take hours and Credence’s feet and arm do begin to ache, but John moves closer, until Credence can see the star on his forehead. He holds the bag steady and holds his breath when John comes near, nearer than he ever has. John noses at the bag for a while and Credence is afraid he might rip it out of his hands, but he doesn’t.  
  
He takes a bite of the oats and then another, until he’s eating like the rest of them, eager for the treat. Credence’s lip is wobbling and he bites it hard so he doesn’t get teary and sniff and spook John. He doesn’t move at all, barely breathing, as John finishes the oats. He mouths at the bag when he’s done and seems a bit annoyed that there isn’t more and Credence smiles.  
  
“I think I have to believe everyone can be saved,” Credence says softly. “Even damaged people, like you and me.”  
  
John gazes at him as Credence tentatively pulls his arm back, stiff at the elbow. They stare at each other before John flicks his tail and turns, trotting off to the other side of the pasture.  
  
Credence is trembling, he realizes, once the horse is gone. He’s shaking like a leaf and though he’s sore from not moving for so long, he feels as if he’s made some stride that not even Percy has. It could be a fluke, merely a calm night that John isn’t as aggressive as usual, but he’ll keep trying.  
  
He’ll keep trying as long as John keeps letting him, no matter how much sleep he loses.  
  
——  
  
Percy leaves around lunchtime the next day. When he comes downstairs in a proper grey three-piece suit, his hair slicked back rather than hanging over his forehead, Credence stares at him.  
  
He looks different and it’s a good different, but he finds he wants to run his hands through his hair until it looks like it should. That he wants to see him down to his cotton shirt and trousers, in muddy boots, not dressed up to go mingle with high society.  
  
Oh yes, Percy is achingly handsome like this, but he’s not the Percy he knows, and Credence feels something he’s felt before, but not in this way.  
  
He’s jealous and not of Percy, but of who Percy is going to be spending the evening with. It makes him uneasy, both the feeling of jealousy and the idea of Percy’s evening, but he merely smiles when Percy asks if he looks prepared to make a lot of money and tells him he does.  
  
Hollis Hutton picks him up in a nice automobile and Credence watches them drive away, stomach uneasy, but he has work to do still.  
  
Miss Hornwall gives him a nicely sized lunch and he works through until the sun goes down, but it’s an achingly slow day. He finishes dinner in his room and reads until he’s sure Miss Hornwall is asleep.  
  
Credence spends an hour with Johnnie Walker, who doesn’t come for oats tonight, but that’s alright. He will again, Credence knows, and merely tells John how he’s feeling, more openly than he would ever tell anyone else.  
  
John grazes and eventually sleeps, laid out in a way he usually isn’t, and Credence grins when he hears a few snores. He leaves quietly, as Lady trots off around the house for the chicken coop.  
  
It’s harder for Credence to sleep that night, imagining pretty ladies with manicured nails and pearls around their neck touching Percy’s arm. He gets frustrated with himself then, for being silly, for being too old to have eyes for someone he knows he could never be with. For being jealous, something that belongs in adolescence.  
  
Miss Hornwall had said Percy was never interested in anyone anyway. He may not be interested in women for whatever reasons he has, but men out in the country have a different sort of view on men who enjoy the company of men than they do in New York City. It’s hated there plenty, of course, but there are places to go that everyone knows about, like the bathhouses. Not out here though and Credence thinks he’s probably going to have to leave for a while if he ever wants to experience another person touch him the way he wants.  
  
It’s only happened twice, when he was in Pennsylvania, a shock both times, really, and nothing so passionate. Quick and sloppy so no one might see and he has a hard time looking at those moments with fondness, when they were so tinged with fear.  
  
If he had never been with Mary Lou, he might have experienced a bathhouse for himself, rather than that.  
  
But he won’t get that out here, certainly not with Percy, who cares more for peace and quiet and no complications than anything else.  
  
Credence falls asleep, uneasily, and doesn’t feel well rested in the morning.  
  
——  
  
Credence feeds and waters the horses by himself and it does take him quite a long time to do it on his own, longer than he had hoped, but Miss Hornwall tells him not to worry himself, the horses won’t blame him for it.  
  
It makes him feel better, until noon and lunch comes and goes and Percy doesn’t come home. Credence finally finishes their usual first half of the day work but after three and his second lunch, Percy still isn’t home.  
  
Miss Hornwall says it’s to be expected if there was heavy drinking and that certainly doesn’t make Credence feel any better at all.  
  
He spends time with Quest, who is a rascal of a foal, growing quickly but staying close to his dam’s side still. Or Credence’s, nosing at his pockets for a handful of oats or sugar cubes, which Credence always has available for him. He’s more golden than his dam as he grows and Miss Hornwall tells him his sire is a lovely golden chestnut stallion, who is due home very soon.  
  
It’s not until the sun has gone down and Credence has managed to eat half of his dinner before giving up that he finally hears an automobile outside. Lady barks as she runs around the house and Credence moves into the living room, glancing out of the window. It’s Hollis, who he can hear shouting nonsense from the passenger seat of the car, thankfully with a driver. But with a start and quite a lot of dread, he sees Percy get out and he’s not alone.  
  
He offers his hand to a tall blonde woman and if that’s not quite enough, there’s a darker haired woman to follow.  
  
Credence feels ill and turns, hurrying to his room, closing the door and firmly locking it. The door leading outside is already locked but he pulls the curtains and sits on his sofa. He knows he’s being ridiculous, feeling the way he does about Percy, but he comforts himself with the fact that he is only a laborer, not meant to entertain his employer’s guests. He’s to stay out of their way and that Credence can do.  
  
The women are loud, not in an unpleasant way, but a joyful sort of way, laughing and talking and he hears Percy’s lower voice respond as they move into the den, which is naturally right across from his door. Percy knocks on his door, saying his name, and Credence bites his lip and doesn’t answer.  
  
He hears Miss Hornwall in the hall then, whispering that he had barely eaten dinner and didn’t seem to be well, and while it embarrasses him, he’s glad for it.  
  
Of course Percy and his guests are not any quieter in the den and when their laughter grows more, he suspects a good deal of alcohol is involved.  
  
It makes sleeping impossible, so Credence sneaks out of the addition and around to John’s pasture. He hasn’t got any oats with him but he sits in the grass, leaning against the fence, as Lady comes to meet him. She lays between his legs and he scratches her chest as he watches John graze.  
  
John moves closer as the moon rises higher, until he’s close enough that Credence can hear him biting the grass, can hear his breathing, calm and steady.  
  
“I wonder who you were fond of before it all happened,” Credence mumbles. “All of the girls, I imagine.” He smiles a little. “I’ve never asked if any of the two year olds are yours. I’d bet Hannah is, she looks just like you.”  
  
John moves closer to the fence and Credence watches him, the moon reflected off of his eyes. He’s such a handsome horse and Credence can imagine him gleaming after winning a race, roses around his neck.  
  
“I wonder if horses fall in love,” Credence muses and looks down at Lady, her head on his thigh. “Or dogs.” He rubs her chest as she pants happily and that’s when he feels whiskery horse lips on his head.  
  
Credence goes very still, hoping that John is not about to rip half his hair out. He’s tried to bite Credence a few times, when he’s too close to the fence like this, but he only brushes his lips over his hair and forehead and sniffs at him for a while.  
  
Credence licks his lips nervously and slowly moves his hand up, until it’s within reach of John. He doesn’t jerk away, though he does stamp a heavy hoof on the ground. But Credence keeps his hand there, his heart racing uncomfortably, as he stares out at the pastures lit blue by the moon.  
  
John sniffs his hand and mouths at his fingers, but he doesn’t bite. When his nose presses against his hand, Credence gently scratches his soft coat. John doesn’t allow it for long and pulls away, as if startled by some noise or movement, but there’s nothing. He’s agitated and makes use of the pasture to trot off the anxiety, and Credence is trembling again.  
  
Horse saliva and flecks of wet grass are never a pleasant feeling, but Credence stares down at his hand for a long time all the same. He finally decides it’s time to get some sleep and Lady runs off around the house when he gets up.  
  
Credence says good night to John and walks back to the addition, walking inside and kicking his boots off. He hears music now, very lightly, but if they’re still in the den, they’re speaking quietly.  
  
He ignores it either way and cleans his hands in the bathroom before crawling into bed. And if he cries a little, well, no one is around to hear him.  
  
It’s for John anyway and Credence can’t be upset about that.  
  
——  
  
Morning dawns bright and early and Credence heads out to the pastures, expecting to see Percy, but he doesn’t. It’s odd, he thinks, before he has a rather startling thought, about what might be keeping his employer in bed longer.  
  
Credence tries not to think about it as he does the morning chores. He’s in the barn cleaning Toby’s hooves when he hears footsteps. But they're not the heavy footfalls of Percy’s boots and he lets go of Toby’s foot to look over the stall.  
  
She’s one of the women from last night, the darker haired one, tall and slender. She smiles when she sees him and with a little despair, Credence can see how kind it is.  
  
“Good morning, ma’am,” he says. “What can I do for you?”  
  
“Oh, I was wondering what I might be able to do for you, Credence,” she says with a laugh. “I think my sister and I encouraged Percy a little too much last night with a bottle of whiskey. But I know horses and I’d like to help, if you need it.”  
  
Credence blinks a few times. “Oh, erm… no, please, don’t worry. You’re Mister Graves’ guest, you shouldn’t be out here with the horses,” he says. He’s desperately trying not to think about what _encouraged_ means to her. “Please go enjoy breakfast.”  
  
“There’s no one to enjoy it with. Miss Hornwall says she’ll make it when Queenie wakes up, but that could be in ten minutes or at noon,” she says dryly. “I am plenty used to grooming horses. Let me make it a little easier on you. I’m Tina Goldstein, by the way.” She sticks her hand over the stall’s wall.  
  
Credence shakes it. “Erm, Credence Barebone,” he says, though he knows she knows his name already. “Well, Missy is next.” He gestures at her in the next stall. “She’s temperamental about her hind feet.”  
  
“No one will be as temperamental as Nana was,” Tina says. “We named her Nana because she was born ornery and didn’t care who knew it.” She moves into the stall with a practiced ease and grabs a pick and Credence decides he trusts her enough.  
  
He pats Toby’s leg until he shifts his weight and lifts it, beginning to clean it out again. “There are a few Nanas out here,” Credence says. “How was the party?”  
  
“Oh,” Tina sighs. “Boring, but they’re always boring. Percy’s ranch is right in between theirs and ours and since we left so late, he offered to let us sleep here for the night, bless him. He’s far better company than anyone at the party. Besides Daddy, of course, but Daddy is buying racehorses and trying to get someone to marry Queenie.”  
  
Credence feels a little queasy but he keeps working until Toby’s hoof is clean. He moves to the other one and starts on it. “Not trying to get someone to marry you too?” he asks, feeling a bit daring.  
  
“Hah! Like any of those washed up old men would interest me,” Tina says. “Percy’s the only one close to my age in these sorts of circles. My sister’s too. That’s why we get along, you see. Everyone else is so stuck up in their old age they miss out on who Percy is.”  
  
Credence hums non committedly to that. It seems Percy _does_ have friends, though he and Miss Hornwall neglected to mention them.  
  
“Him being a spitting image of his father doesn’t help matters,” Tina mutters darkly. “But anyway. Percy was telling us all about you last night. We’re so glad you found your way here to help him out. We worry about him sometimes, here all alone.”  
  
Credence is blushing and wondering why on earth Percy would talk about him. “Oh, erm… yes, he did say it was harder to manage the ranch without any help. I’m only grateful he hired me on.”  
  
“He’s just as grateful you came about,” Tina says. “He said you might just stick around for the long haul.”  
  
“I was thinking about it, yes, ma’am,” Credence says. He won’t be, if Percy decides he wants to marry one of the Goldstein sisters, but he won’t tell Tina that.  
  
“He said you’re working some real magic on the ranch,” Tina says and there’s a thump against the stall wall, Missy earning her punishment for not lifting her foot. “Atta girl.”  
  
Credence doesn’t think he’s working any type of magic. “Only glad to be of help, ma’am,” he mumbles as he finishes with Toby. He grabs a comb and sets to brushing out the tangles in his dark mane.  
  
“Please call me Tina,” Tina says. “Ma’am makes me feel old and I’m only a few years older than you, according to Percy.”  
  
Credence wants to ask what else Percy told them about himself, because he can’t imagine why he would ever come up in conversation. “Alright,” he says uncertainly. “How long have you known Mister Graves?”  
  
“Oh, ages. Since we were kids,” Tina says. “Properties might be spread apart out here, Credence, but everybody still knows everybody.” She stands straight and he looks at her as she puts the pick away with a smile. “I’ve heard it’s different in the city.”  
  
He’s not sure if she means that she knows he’s from the city just by looking at him, as usual, or if Percy told her that too. “Yes,” he says anyway. “We live on top of each other and don’t know anything about each other, mostly. Things move a lot faster in the city.”  
  
“You don’t get bored here?”  
  
“Things move faster there but they’re just as busy here. I like it here,” Credence says quietly as he concentrates on Toby’s mane. “It’s peaceful.”  
  
Tina smiles. “That it is,” she says. “Though I wouldn’t mind seeing the city myself one day. The big city, that is. Like an entirely different world.”  
  
“It really is,” Credence says. “I’m sure someone here got tired of the country and fell in love with the skyscrapers.”  
  
“Probably,” Tina says with a chuckle. “Well, either way. Queenie and I are glad you’re here.”  
  
Credence is saved from responding to that when he hears Miss Hornwall shouting about breakfast, which always inspires Lady to bark, just in case they hadn’t heard her. Tina helps him turn out Toby and Missy in their pastures and they head back to the house.  
  
When Credence steps inside after Tina, into the kitchen, he sees the blonde woman, Queenie, sitting at the table, her head in her hands. Percy isn’t anywhere to be seen. Not yet anyway.  
  
“I told you the fourth glass was too much,” Tina says as she takes a seat next to her sister, who has a large mug of steaming coffee in front of her.  
  
Queenie looks up, squinting a little as she looks at her sister. Her hair is wavy, perhaps not as finely done as it usually is, but she’s incredibly lovely, even with dark rings under her eyes and the grimace of someone experiencing a hangover. But she catches sight of Credence and smiles, with perfect dimples.  
  
“Oh, there he is,” she says. “Aww, what a doll you are, honey. I’m Queenie.”  
  
“Credence,” Credence croaks as he moves to his usual seat at the table. “It’s nice to meet you both.”  
  
“Sorry if we kept you up late last night,” Tina says. “My sister can’t control her volume once she’s had a few glasses of champagne. Or bourbon. Or rum.”  
  
Queenie groans. “Never again,” she says and takes a drink of the coffee as Miss Hornwall chuckles at the stove. “We’ve heard so much about you, Credence. You’ve fit right in here, haven’t you? Such a nice thing to hear, honey.”  
  
Credence blushes. “I’m only glad to help,” he says weakly, not quite sure what else to say and thoroughly embarrassed Percy is telling anyone about him. “Did, erm… did your father and Mister Graves sell any horses last night?”  
  
Queenie laughs and then winces a little. “Oh, did they,” she says. “Percy broke a record. Most money I’ve ever seen a yearling go for. Made a lot of people angry but his horses are simply the best. Daddy did good too, he produces good racers and dressage horses.”  
  
Miss Hornwall serves them breakfast, buttery hashbrowns and eggs and sausage, with fresh biscuits. Credence is tempted to take his plate into his room, but Miss Hornwall gestures for him to stay, taking a plate that he suspects is for Percy upstairs.  
  
“Which horse did Mister Graves sell?” Credence asks curiously.  
  
“Gilbert, I think his name was,” Tina says with a frown. “Is that right?”  
  
Credence nods. “Yes,” he says and realizes he will be sad to see him go, as hot-headed as he is. But Percy’s been talking about his potential for a while now. “What’s a record when it comes to selling horses?”  
  
It’s not his business whatsoever but he is immensely curious.  
  
“Something like sixty-seven thousand, I think it was, for Gilbert,” Queenie says through a yawn.  
  
Credence jumps a little in surprise and gapes at them. “That… that much?” he asks weakly. “But that’s… in these times…”  
  
“Horse racing is more popular than ever right now, Credence,” Tina says with a smile. “No expenses spared if it keeps revenue moving through the states. Drove the prices of horses up a lot in the last two years especially.”  
  
That amount of money is simply mind boggling and he thinks of what Percy said, about not drowning in money anymore, but having enough for a lifetime anyway. He must be drowning in it again after last night.  
  
“One hundred thousand is the prize money this coming fall,” Queenie says with a smile. “Percy might actually go to that race. Or he might believe it’s bad luck. They do so have their superstitions.”  
  
Credence doesn’t think Percy has any superstitions about anything. “Oh, erm,” he manages and doesn’t quite know what to say. “I didn’t realize it was all so lucrative.”  
  
“It always has been but when they made it legal to gamble on the races, it boomed into what it is now,” Tina says. “Chaos, if you go to a race, but always interesting to watch.”  
  
“I think I’d like to see a race someday,” Credence admits. “I just don’t think I’ll have an opportunity to.”  
  
Queenie and Tina glance at each other and he doesn’t quite understand the look that they share.  
  
“Percy will take you to one if you ask him, honey,” Queenie says and smiles when he blushes. “A good learning opportunity for what happens out here, huh?”  
  
“I suppose,” Credence mumbles and eats more of his breakfast, before it gets cold.  
  
“That man,” Miss Hornwall mutters as she walks back into the kitchen. “I ought to forbid you two from this household, the state you put him in in the mornings.”  
  
Queenie and Tina giggle and Credence sighs.  
  
“Back to work,” he says as he eats the last bite of his eggs. He takes the plate to the sink and waves at Tina and Queenie when they say _see you_ together.  
  
Credence is happy to get back outside, even though it’s getting warm and tends to make him sweat the moment he’s in the sun. He tries to get lost in his work, which is easy enough, but his thoughts race all the same and he doesn’t like where they go.  
  
When he’s in the middle of cleaning out a stall, he hears footsteps again and Tina and Queenie’s voices. He sighs to himself but he looks up as they walk toward him. Queenie looks more put together and they really are beautiful women who seem nice, who have said nothing but kind things to him and about Percy.  
  
He can’t be upset with them for his own silly feelings.  
  
“We wanted to tell you it was nice to meet you,” Tina says as they stop in front of the stall. “I feel like I know you already and we’ve only just met.”  
  
Credence would groan, but he doesn’t. What on earth was Percy thinking, blabbing about his only laborer?  
  
“It’s good to meet you two as well,” he says with a small smile. “I’m glad Percy has friends. Hollis made it seem like everyone despises him.”  
  
“Well,” Queenie shrugs. “Despise is a strong word. It’s more like hate.” She grins when he smiles wider, unable to help it. “Even then they’re polite enough to him. Percy’s a good man and they’ll see it again someday.”  
  
Credence bites his lip as he looks between them. “What happened?” he asks. “With his father?” He starts a little and shakes his head. “It’s not my business, I know, but it’s…”  
  
“Such a mystery, huh, honey?” Queenie says sympathetically. “I’d tell you but I think that might be Percy’s place instead. And I imagine he won’t mind if you ask him.”  
  
Credence plans on never doing that but he smiles all the same. “You’re right,” he says. “Is Percy taking you back home?”  
  
“No, no, we’ve arranged a ride,” Tina says. “He’s mostly grunting as a form of language right now, I don’t want to be with him when he’s behind the wheel.” She smirks a little. “Percy can normally handle his alcohol better than anyone I’ve known, probably not a good thing, but he did almost poison himself last night.”  
  
“Probably my fault,” Queenie says with a grimace, but doesn’t elaborate on how it might be, another thing for Credence to agonize about.  
  
“You ever need any help, you write to us, alright?” Tina asks with a smile. “Maybe we can take you into the city sometime, show you around some places, eat in a restaurant or two.”  
  
“Oh,” Credence says and is genuinely surprised by the offer. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you, I will.”  
  
A car horn honks and the Goldsteins smile and shake his hand and leave. He walks to the barn doors and sees Percy then, waiting at the car. He hugs them both and kisses their cheeks before they get into the car and it drives away. Credence walks back into the barn to finish cleaning the stalls and frowns when he hears Percy’s boots.  
  
“Sorry I left you to it this morning, Mister Barebone,” Percy says as he walks closer. “I am afraid I imbibed a little too much.”  
  
When he leans against the stall, Credence glances at him. He does look a little worse for wear, eyes bloodshot and stubble on his cheeks. Still plenty handsome, of course, and Credence angrily shovels horse manure out of the stall.  
  
“It’s no problem,” he says. “I’m glad you had a good time.”  
  
“Miss Hornwall says you weren’t well yesterday. Everything alright?”  
  
“Oh, yes. I think I wasn’t expecting to be as tired as I was after handling it alone. Not that I couldn’t, but it took a while. Everything went well.”  
  
“So I’ve heard,” Percy says through a yawn, scrubbing at his eyes. “I didn’t expect to bring company but I hope you were able to sleep through it.”  
  
Credence wants to tell him he spent hours outside to get away from it, but that might be considered rude. “I was,” he lies and finishes with the stall, setting the rake aside and sighing as he looks at Percy. “When is Mister Fontaine going to be here?”  
  
“Three days actually. He’ll be bringing Tommy, Big Blue and Serendipity. I’ll rest them for a couple weeks but we’ll breed them after,” Percy says. “Might aim for five foals next year now that I’ve got you.”  
  
Credence blushes and doesn’t know why he does. “That sounds good,” he says and bites his lip. “I keep meaning to ask. Are any of the two year olds out there John’s?”  
  
“Hannah and Big Blue are, yes,” Percy says. “Hannah will be heading out along with Stars to get trained by Fontaine. I think Stars has the most potential. I sold Gilbert.”  
  
“Miss Goldstein told me,” Credence says and smiles. “He’s going to have a length of stride to match John’s, I bet.”  
  
“Close enough, I’m sure,” Percy says with a smile. “Unfortunately I’m going to have to set a bad example today and ask you to finish the afternoon. Leave anything you want for me for the early evening.”  
  
“Okay,” Credence says and he’s secretly relieved. He watches Percy leave and gets back to work himself.  
  
It was nice to hear Percy’s voice, nice to see him, but Credence is feeling mixed up in a way he hasn’t felt for a few years now. He hopes it starts easing soon, but he’s already been here for two and a half months and it only seems to be getting worse.  
  
But he does as Percy says, though he leaves no work for him. Miss Hornwall won’t announce dinner for a half hour or so and Credence decides to be a little daring while Percy is indisposed. He walks to John’s pasture and leans against the fence as he watches him graze.  
  
John doesn’t acknowledge him for a while but when he does it’s quite sudden, a quick charge toward the fence and Credence backs away a few paces. John’s angry and postures for a while but Credence smiles.  
  
“One day I’m going to get in there with you and you won’t try to hurt me,” he tells John, whose ears turn perk up. “Yes, that _is_ a challenge.”  
  
They watch each other for a while before John trots off and it’s not his usual agitated gait. He merely tosses his head a few times before he drops into the grass and rolls on his back, something Credence has only seen him do when John thinks no one is looking. He laughs and leaves him be, walking back to the addition. He changes out of his dusty clothes and into something nicer for dinner and when he walks into the house proper, he smells steak. Percy must’ve gotten some from Hollis while he was out.  
  
Miss Hornwall puts her finger over her lips and points out toward the sitting room. Credence walks around to the doorway and looks in. Percy is asleep in an armchair, his hat over his face and his hands resting on his stomach. Credence’s heart misbehaves and he watches him for a while with a sigh.  
  
He walks back into the kitchen and gets a glass of lemonade. “He was forming full sentences when he spoke to me,” he says quietly to Miss Hornwall.  
  
She snorts. “Why doesn’t that surprise me,” she says dryly. “The most I’ve gotten out of him is _woman,_ like I’m terribly inconveniencing him when I try to feed him. But that’s Queenie’s influence.”  
  
Credence bites his lip. “How does she get him to drink so much?”  
  
Miss Hornwall rolls her eyes. “By teasing him so badly he feels he has no choice. Amusing until the next day anyway.”  
  
“But they’re not…?”  
  
Miss Hornwall gives him a flat look, the way she does whenever he’s asked a foolish question. “Didn’t I already tell you there’s no woman out there for him? Queenie’s supposedly got a man in the city, but you didn’t hear that from me.”  
  
Credence blushes and frowns for a while. “I thought they might have…” he trails off and blushes a bit more wildly, shaking himself. “He’s only been drunk enough to not move since last night?”  
  
“Mhmm,” Miss Hornwall says as she peers at him critically.  
  
Whenever she looks at him like that, it’s time for Credence to change the subject or run away. He chooses to take his glass of lemonade to the table and sip it as she finishes dinner and tries not to feel too badly about the immense relief he feels.  
  
“Percy!” Miss Hornwall shouts after a while, the way she usually doesn’t. “Come get yourself some food and join us back in the human world.”  
  
Credence is fairly sure he hears Percy mutter _darn woman_ from the sitting room and takes a large drink of the lemonade. But Percy walks in, without his hat, and drags the chair noisily from the table and slumps into it with a sigh. His hair is hanging over his forehead and his eyes but he doesn’t brush it back the way he usually does.  
  
“You drink too much,” Credence says.  
  
Percy looks at him, squinting a little. “You don’t drink enough.”  
  
Credence smiles. “You’re really making me see how wonderful it can be.”  
  
Percy chuckles, like he can’t help it and shrugs. “It can be, you know,” he says. “I won’t allow you to miss out on a glass of champagne when Big Blue takes the cup this fall.”  
  
“We’ll see about that,” Credence says as Miss Hornwall serves them dinner, winking at Credence.  
  
——  
  
Three days later, Mister Fontaine comes down to the ranch with a horse trailer and Credence and Percy meet him at the barn.  
  
Mister Fontaine is a very large man, tall and around Percy’s age, with muscled arms and a mean scowl. Credence is a bit intimidated by him until he breaks out into a grin when he gets in the shade and realizes it was the sun bothering him.  
  
“First and second all three times for them all,” he says as he shakes Percy’s hand. “Should’ve been there to see ‘em, Percy.”  
  
“Maybe one day,” Percy says and claps Credence on the shoulder. “Credence Barebone, this is Mister Theo Fontaine. He wandered in in late March,” he adds when Mister Fontaine raises an eyebrow.  
  
“Did he now,” he says and shakes Credence’s hand so firmly his shoulder hurts a little after. “Well, it’s good to have you on board, lad. Lord knows this place could use the help.”  
  
Credence doesn’t think it was in any bad shape considering it hasn’t changed at all since he got here, but he doesn’t say it. Percy merely smiles at him and they go to unload the three horses.  
  
Tommy’s a beautiful golden chestnut, Quest’s sire, while Big Blue is a dark bay like his own sire, and Serendipity is a lovely grey mare. They’re all tall and strong the way racehorses are and Credence takes Big Blue from Percy, feeling a little silly, but it’s nice to see John’s offspring. He’s not quite as tall but he’s impressive all the same, with a kinder disposition. They examine them in the barn after the long road home and once Percy and Mister Fontaine are satisfied, they turn them out into their proper pastures. The horses seem overjoyed to be back in a place they can run and be free compared to a racetrack or stalls. Credence watches them with a smile as Fontaine tells Percy about the spring racing season.  
  
He’s foul-mouthed but funny and they exchange barb after barb between each other. Percy isn’t as friendless as he made himself out to be, but he supposes he would get along well with his own trainer.  
  
They go off to look at Hannah and Stars. Mister Fontaine measures them and evaluates their growth and says that he expects the most out of Stars but that Hannah may surprise them all the same.  
  
Mister Fontaine will stay for a week, as the veterinarian will be down soon to ensure their health and give them the approval to start training and eventually racing them.  
  
When Percy and Mister Fontaine walk toward John’s pasture, Credence follows, feeling rather protective of the horse, but Mister Fontaine only sighs when John stomps his feet and bucks angrily when they’ve gotten close enough.  
  
“Shame,” Mister Fontaine says. “He was my favorite over the last twenty years.”  
  
“He’ll come around again,” Credence finds himself saying, though he regrets it immediately. Mister Fontaine raises an eyebrow at him, which says what he thinks about that, but Percy is gazing at Credence with a small smile.  
  
“He just might,” he says when Mister Fontaine glances at him. “Magic has been known to happen.”  
  
“The day that horse lets anyone near him, I’ll eat my boot,” Mister Fontaine says as he and Percy walk toward the house.  
  
Credence watches them go, until they’re inside, and moves closer to John’s fence. He leans against it and watches the horse, biting his lip as he looks at Credence warily, but he’s no longer warning him to keep away.  
  
“Should I have told him he should get to eating his boot?” he asks quietly and smiles as John digs at the ground, but it’s without aggression.  
  
He tosses his head a few times and it’s the silly way that horses do and Credence wishes he would come closer, so he could scratch his neck, but he thinks that’ll take more time.  
  
Credence merely goes inside to have lunch with Mister Fontaine and Percy, who is more foul-mouthed with Mister Fontaine, but it somehow only makes him all the more attractive. Credence has stopped praying for forgiveness, but that doesn’t make the ache in his heart any better all the same.  
  
——  
  
The veterinarian arrives four days later and it’s a good thing, they decide, because Miranda happens to be in the middle of labor. It’s strange having two extra pairs of hands, but when Percy informs the man they’re expecting the foal in a couple hours, he smiles brightly, like nothing would delight him more than to help.  
  
He’s much younger than Credence had been expecting, only a few years older than himself. He’s got windswept red-brown hair and a smattering of freckles, his smile kind and wide, and he shakes Credence’s hand enthusiastically and introduces himself as Mister Scamander.  
  
He’s English and it’s such a shock to Credence to hear. The amount of accents he heard in Manhattan he was used to but out here, in the countryside of West Virginia, is the last place he would expect an Englishman.  
  
It’s only late morning and Miranda is lying in the stall, uncomfortable, but dealing with it a bit easier than Maybelle had. Mister Scamander sits on a stool in the stall with her and pats her neck as he looks her over, asking questions about the horses that will be going down with Mister Fontaine in the meantime.  
  
The foal comes an hour and a half later, of the same coloring of his dam, brown with a thin stripe on her face. Once she’s sat up and her dam has groomed her, Mister Scamander inspects her and declares her healthy.  
  
Mister Fontaine and Mister Scamander leave after washing up to go inspect the younger ones that will be leaving and Percy and Credence watch the foal come to grips with an entirely different world. It’s always like the first time, Credence thinks, as he watches her.  
  
“Big Blue’s?” he asks.  
  
“That she is,” Percy says. “John’s a grandfather.”  
  
Credence smiles as he crosses his arms over the stall door and rests his chin on them. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear it,” he says mildly.  
  
Percy chuckles. “Coming from you, maybe.”  
  
Credence glances at him as Percy leans against the post between stalls, peering at Credence with a small smile.  
  
“One more to go,” he says. “Should be next week. Hopefully anyway.”  
  
There’s some relief in those words, because Credence had been expecting Percy to tell him he knows he’s been spending time with John and that he would likely say it’s a lost cause. That any friendliness John has shown has been merely a break in the madness and he’s not sure he would handle it well, hearing that.  
  
“You name this one,” Credence says with a smile.  
  
Percy laughs. “Only if you name the last one,” he says and there’s such fondness in it, a softness to his eyes that’s going to break Credence’s heart one day.  
  
“Fine,” Credence sighs, as if it’s a burden, but he can’t stop smiling anyway as he looks at the foal. She’s trying to get up on her front feet, struggling, but Miranda is standing now and nosing at her.  
  
“Watch her for a while, will you?” Percy asks and he squeezes Credence’s shoulder as he walks by him, back out of the barn.  
  
Credence watches him go and sighs and if it’s a little in longing, well, no one is around to hear except the horses. He watches the foal struggle for a while, until she’s finally on her feet and nursing an hour or so later.  
  
Mister Scamander comes in shortly after and smiles as he stands next to Credence. “Lovely, isn’t she?” he asks. “Though all of them are.”  
  
“They are,” Credence says with a smile. “Do you own any?”  
  
“Goodness no, I haven’t got the time,” Mister Scamander says. “I own an assortment of animals that require far less care. The axolotls are my favorites, I think.”  
  
Credence has no idea what an axolotl is and he’s about to ask but Percy comes back in and orders them to the house to get some lunch. Percy will join them, but he’ll be in the barn the rest of the day and night, like he was with Quest.  
  
He walks with Mister Scamander up to the house and listens to him about the horses’ health. Those that have come home and those that are going to be going with Mister Fontaine. He admits that he’s not particularly fond of racing even though it gives him a good amount of work, but he does mention that Percy cares for each of his horses, instead of seeing them as only dollar signs. He gestures at John’s pasture in front of the house as proof of that.  
  
“Poor thing,” Mister Scamander sighs. “Mister Graves had me out numerous times in the beginning to see if anything could be done. But trauma of that sort is hard to work out.”  
  
Credence furrows his brow and stops walking and Mister Scamander looks at him inquisitively. “But not impossible?”  
  
“Of course not!” Mister Scamander says. “Nothing’s impossible, I always say. But Mister Graves tried everything I’ve suggested and nothing seems to do the trick. I think John looks at him and remembers the fear, even if he was fond of him before then. Mister Fontaine has tried, but… well he hasn’t got much of a soft hand, if I’m to be honest.”  
  
Credence smiles a little at that and looks at John. “Can I tell you something, sir? If you keep it yourself?”  
  
Mister Scamander smiles. “Of course, Mister Barebone.”  
  
“I sit with him almost every night,” Credence says in a rush, quietly so. “I talk to him about my days and the other horses. I have for a long while now.”  
  
“And?” Mister Scamander asks curiously.  
  
“He ate oats out of a bag in my hand and he let me scratch his nose not a week ago.”  
  
Mister Scamander smiles again, more widely, and looks genuinely pleased. “Well done, Mister Barebone. It sounds like you’re the soft hand he needs,” he says. “Keep it up.” He looks at John. “And he may just surprise us all yet.”  
  
Credence feels an immense amount of relief finally getting it off of his shoulders. He still doesn’t want to tell Percy and certainly not Miss Hornwall and he’s glad that he was right to trust Mister Scamander. He tried to help and it doesn’t sound like he ever suggested putting John down. And to have a veterinarian’s praise makes him feel even better about it.  
  
“Thank you, sir,” Credence says gratefully. “It feels good to tell someone. I think about him often. I don’t think just because he can’t race anymore that he’s not worth anything.”  
  
“I’m glad to hear that,” Mister Scamander says. “I’m of the same mind. All creatures can be helped, if you bother trying to understand them. And do call me Newt, please.”  
  
Credence smiles because he thinks Newt is a fitting, if odd name for Mister Scamander. “Credence then,” he says. “Please.”  
  
“Well, Credence,” Newt says. “We mustn’t be poor guests. Let’s have some lunch.”  
  
The table is almost full for once, such an odd thing to see, and Miss Hornwall serves them ham steaks and buttery mashed potatoes and green beans. Newt tells Credence it’s very American and it makes him laugh. Mister Fontaine and Percy are busy talking business and Credence asks Newt then, what in the world an axolotl is.  
  
He’s an animated person when he’s talking about animals, of which he truly has a strange variety of, but Credence listens with rapt interest, rather fascinated by it all.  
  
“And of course Frank is a rather good bird for rabbit hunting,” Mister Scamander says. “Though I’m hesitant to send him out, the way bald eagles are shot down so often. I keep petitioning the government but they’ve been ignoring me so far. I’ll get their attention one day. It does seem like they should already be protected considering they’re this country’s bloody symbol.”  
  
Credence laughs. “I didn’t know they weren’t protected,” he says. “That does seem a bit foolish.”  
  
“I find many things in America to be a bit foolish and backwards,” Newt says with an amused smile. “But I am rather fond of it all the same.”  
  
Credence smiles as he takes a bite of his potatoes and looks across the table at Percy. Percy’s looking at him, his knuckles pressed against his mouth, and there’s something strange about him. But Fontaine curses loudly about some enemy he’s made at the track and Percy looks at him again, squinting like he’s annoyed.  
  
He decides to ignore that for now, mostly because he doesn’t think it was anything aimed at him, and finishes his lunch as he listens to Newt tell him about the litter of Border collie puppies he helped deliver just two days ago.  
  
“Tempting to take one of them when they’re old enough,” he sighs. “But Pickett, my cat, probably wouldn’t like that.”  
  
They see Mister Scamander off in the evening, after work has been done, and Percy stays out in the barn. Mister Fontaine joins him with a bottle of whiskey and Credence wants to tell him that’s probably not a good idea, but he thinks Mister Fontaine would curse at him if he did.  
  
He merely takes advantage of only Miss Hornwall being in the house later in the evening and goes out to John’s pasture. He tells him all about becoming a grandfather and what a beautiful foal she is. Credence muses about what sort of racehorse she might make, coming from such good bloodlines, holding a bag of oats over the fence and watching John eat them.  
  
“Newt said you’re afraid of Percy,” Credence says softly. “I think you should give him a chance too. He raised you, remember?”  
  
John only continues eating the oats, until they’re gone. Credence has his arm stretched, so he’s able to move away quickly if John tries to bite him, but he doesn’t, when Credence takes the bag away. He tosses his head a few times and Credence reaches into his pocket, producing a handful of sugar cubes.  
  
When he tentatively offers them, John turns his head, eyeing him with suspicion for a while. But he eventually sniffs at Credence’s hand and he must recognize the sugar cubes, because he takes them eagerly once he’s tasted them.  
  
Credence leaves his hand there as John crunches the sugar cubes and he doesn’t look irritated. He merely noses at him again and only flinches a little when Credence turns his hand and rubs gently over his soft nose.  
  
A bark of laughter, loud, down at the barn spooks him and he’s off across the pasture before Credence can blink. He sighs a little but he smiles for the progress made and walks back to the addition, to read for a while before getting some sleep.  
  
——  
  
Once they’ve determined Miranda and Maybelle and their foals get along, they turn them out into the pasture. Quest is very interested in the other foal but every time she comes near him, he trots off quickly, and it amuses Credence to no end.  
  
Jenny is what Percy decides on and Credence thinks it fits her.  
  
They all have more extravagant racing names and that’ll come later for her and Quest, but it’s a good name for when she’s home.  
  
Percy is strangely distant, Credence thinks, over the next few days, saying few words and offering less smiles. But he thinks it’s Mister Fontaine’s doing, as he keeps Percy busy enough outside of their usual goings-on on the ranch. They’re in the den every night talking business and Credence spends his time reading when they’re at it. He sees John every night when the house goes quiet, of course, but an idea takes him and over the next few days, he thinks about it.  
  
Mister Fontaine leaves after the third foal is born, right when Percy said he would be, once they’ve ensured his health. He’s a light bay horse, no white markings at all, another of Big Blue’s, bigger than Jenny is.  
  
After they’ve turned him and his dam out a day later with the others and watched them for a few hours, Credence decides to bring up what he’s been thinking about.  
  
“Erm,” he starts and winces a little. “I was wondering if I might request a day off?”  
  
Percy looks at him, raising a dark eyebrow, relaxed against the fence with one boot up on a bottom slat. “A day off?” he repeats and hums. “Just the one?”  
  
“Well, yes,” Credence says. “I imagine I’d be back by evening. At least I think so.” When Percy raises his eyebrows, Credence shrugs helplessly. “I don’t honestly know how far away the city is.”  
  
Percy huffs a small laugh. “When we say the city it’s either Charlottesville or Richmond. What were you looking to do there?”  
  
“Oh, well,” Credence says and looks back at the foals. “Tina and Queenie offered to take me to the city and look around, if I wanted to. I think I’d like that.”  
  
“That’s a two day trip to Charlottesville,” Percy says and he sounds amused, but also annoyed.  
  
Credence is starting to wonder if he somehow offended him, since Mister Fontaine is gone now. Or maybe Mister Fontaine gave him news he didn’t want to hear.  
  
“Oh,” Credence says. “I suppose I thought it was closer than that. But I could afford a hotel room and maybe get some more clothes while I’m there.”  
  
“Maybe a hat too, so you don’t look like Hollis one day.”  
  
“I don’t think I’d look very good in a cowboy hat,” Credence says with a smile. “What do you think?”  
  
“I think you’d look just fine in one,” Percy says, plucking his hat off and putting it on Credence’s head with a smile.  
  
Credence laughs as he reaches up to adjust it. “I meant what do you think about going into town with the Goldstein sisters?”  
  
“I knew what you meant,” Percy says and shrugs. “Sure. Nice of the girls to offer. I imagine you’ll see Charlottesville and Richmond a few times over the next few years, if you stick around.”  
  
“I still plan on that, you know,” Credence says and he feels very strange wearing a cowboy hat, though it does help immensely with the sun. Percy’s gazing at him with the fond smile that makes Credence’s heart race a bit faster and he swallows dryly. “I hope they don’t feel obligated to take me when I ask.”  
  
“They wouldn’t have offered if they didn’t want to,” Percy says. “You’ll have a good time. Send them a letter and let me know when they say they want to do it. Now that the foals are born, we don’t have as many worries.”  
  
“That’s what I was thinking,” Credence says as he looks at them. “Thank you, Percy. Is there anything you’d recommend doing down there?”  
  
Percy shrugs. “Dining out and shopping, mostly, but it’s a nice place to walk around. Richmond is bigger, where the horses race, and there’s more to do there.”  
  
Credence bites his lip. “Queenie said you might go to the fall cup this year considering the prize money,” he says carefully.  
  
“Did she?” Percy chuckles. “We’ll see about that. I miss watching them but the drama isn’t worth it. I’m good at what I do but I’m not made for catty and petty conversation.”  
  
“You couldn’t avoid it?”  
  
“As much as I wish I could, no,” Percy says. “Lots of interviews with the press before and after, lots of pictures if Blue wins. Mingling with the other owners and trainers. A real fiasco that I’m not used to anymore.”  
  
Credence frowns and looks at the foals again. He’s never been a part of horseracing in that way, but he thinks he should have expected it to be that way, especially after Tina explained to him how popular it’s gotten. It makes him a little sad though, because Queenie had said Percy would take him, if he only asked.  
  
But he hardly wants to put Percy through that. Even if they went to a smaller race, he’s bound to be recognized and hounded.  
  
“What’s put that look on your face, Mister Barebone?”  
  
Credence blushes and glances at Percy, who is gazing at him. “Nothing,” he says and shrugs when Percy raises an eyebrow. “It’s nothing, really. Thank you though. I’ll get to writing a letter.” He takes the hat off and hands it back to Percy, who takes it, still studying Credence.  
  
“You owe me something, you know.”  
  
Credence’s stomach loops and his heart skips a beat. He blinks at Percy. “What’s that?”  
  
Percy smiles, looking amused by Credence’s sudden worry. “A name.”  
  
“Oh,” Credence sighs in relief and looks at the foal. “I’m still thinking about it. I’ve got a few ideas but I’ll tell you when I've decided.”  
  
Percy chuckles and nods. “You are a very indecisive person, Credence.”  
  
Credence wrinkles his nose. “Maybe in some ways,” he says. “Newt said it’s always best to spend time with a newborn before picking a name, so you know what fits them the most.”  
  
“Newt?”  
  
“Mister Scamander,” Credence says hurriedly, blushing. He wants to tell Percy he’s been given permission, but he thinks that’s probably unprofessional anyway. “I’ll tell you soon.”  
  
He looks at the house as Miss Hornwall shouts about their second lunch and Lady howls on the porch. Credence smiles and walks up to the house and it’s not until he’s nearly on the porch that he realizes Percy is still out by the pasture.  
  
“Is Percy acting strange to you?” Credence asks when he walks into the kitchen to the smell of sweet potatoes.  
  
“Is that man ever not strange?”  
  
“Stranger then.”  
  
“Oh, he’s got something on his mind and is running in circles with it,” Miss Hornwall says breezily. “Not unlike another man I have to watch run himself in circles every few days.”  
  
Credence’s cheeks are warm and he frowns at her, but she only chuckles and he smiles, unable to help it. “Maybe we should take lessons on how to speak plainly to each other. Erm, well, if it’s any of my business anyway.”  
  
“Lord knows I pray for that every day. You men only speak plainly at all the wrong moments,” Miss Hornwall mutters. “Go wash your hands.”  
  
Credence smiles and goes to the bathroom to do just that. He fetches paper and a pen and sets them on the table when he comes back into the kitchen. He holds his hand up in surrender when Miss Hornwall narrows her eyes at him and eats lunch with Percy, when he eventually comes in. He tries to talk to him, but he seems lost in thought now, and Credence doesn’t want to bother him.  
  
As soon as he’s cleared his plate, he sets to writing the letter, wincing at his poor penmanship, and he might ramble a little, but he eventually thinks he’s got something suitable. Miss Hornwall produces an envelope for him, likely from the den, and he folds the letter and puts it inside. She gives him the Goldsteins’ address and he stares down at the envelope for a while and realizes he’s never written anyone a letter before.  
  
It’s such a striking thought that his eyes sting and he quickly blinks that away before anyone notices and lets Miss Hornwall take the letter from him.  
  
“I’ll be out on Red tomorrow,” Percy says after a while.  
  
“Oh,” Credence says and smiles. “For most of the day?”  
  
“Yes,” Percy says as he looks at Credence. “Stay and mind the foals, will you? I’ll need a shot during the day now that there’s three, until fall comes.”  
  
Credence is disappointed, unexpectedly, though it makes sense. They can’t leave them with only Miss Hornwall and Lady after all. But he’s had a good time when they’ve gone out into the wilderness, though Percy hasn’t made him swim again and they’ve come back in good moods since that first time. They’ve even gone fishing, which Credence is horrible at, but Percy makes it fun all the same.  
  
“Of course,” Credence says. “What’d you do last year?”  
  
“Hollis came out,” Percy says. “But I don’t want to bother him when you’re perfectly capable.”  
  
“Well, I don’t know about being perfectly capable with a rifle,” Credence mutters. “Not that I’m not getting better,” he hurriedly adds, before Percy can threaten him with extra shooting lessons. “I’m only glad it’s the noise that scares them.”  
  
Percy looks amused now, smiling, just a bit, and it soothes an ache in Credence’s heart. He’d rather watch Percy smile for the rest of his life than look upset.  
  
“You’ll be fine,” he says as he stands. “Go spend some time with the foals, I’ll take care of the barn.” He squeezes Credence’s shoulder as he walks by and then out the door.  
  
Credence watches him go with a sigh but he does as he says and tries not to feel too put out by not being able to join him tomorrow. Or not until the fall, he realizes, and is even more put out, but it’s his job, he supposes.  
  
There will always be next year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing wrong with some mutual pining, am I right?


	3. Chapter 3

Queenie writes back to Credence only a few days later and her letter is as sweet as she is, Credence thinks. She says she’s glad he’s accepted their offer and suggests Saturday and Sunday, two and a half weeks from now, to Charlottesville.  
  
Credence asks Percy if it’s alright and when he gets his approval, he writes back to them, and feels an excitement he’s never felt before. The idea of having two people who may just end up being his friends, the way they are Percy’s friends, who are kind and want to treat him to a good time is a rather incredible one.  
  
He only hopes Queenie doesn’t try and get him to drink.  
  
Percy is more himself as the days pass and when Credence tells him the foal ought to be named Lucky, he smiles, wider than he has in a while, and tells Credence he has two horses now.  
  
Credence dares to voice his thought aloud, that if Lucky becomes a racehorse, he ought to be named March of Luck, but Percy doesn’t make fun of him or tease him. He merely smiles again, says it’s done, and that Credence better see to it that he grows up strong and ready to race.  
  
They have drinks in the den again, something that Credence realizes hasn’t happened in a few weeks, and whatever had gone on, still a mystery to Credence, passes by like it hadn’t happened.  
  
Percy’s back to smiling and teasing him and driving him a little mad, whenever he touches his shoulder or squeezes the nape of his neck when he walks by him. It’s worse when he’s shirtless, out on the ranch, and Credence knows he does it because being dressed in heavy clothing is awful in the heat of the day, but his skin gets more golden when he’s shining with sweat, and Credence has very uncomfortable nights alone in his room.  
  
The nights are at least cooler when he sneaks outside, sitting out with John and talking to him about whatever comes to mind. He takes sugar cubes from Credence almost every night and lets him run his fingers along his nose and up to his forelock occasionally, but not much more than that before he’ll edge away.  
  
One night, only three days before Tina and Queenie will pick Credence up for their weekend in Charlottesville, Credence is feeding John from a bag of oats and mumbling about too handsome men, when John rears back a few paces.  
  
It makes Credence jump, because he didn’t hear anything, but he sees John staring off at the horse pastures, and Lady at his feet begins to growl. He squints through the dark and that’s when he sees a dark figure lumbering along the edge of the pasture. He sees the horses flinch and move uncomfortably tight together.  
  
“Shit,” Credence whispers and grabs his rifle. “Stay,” he hisses at Lady, when she begins to run forward. She’s still growling, but she does as she’s told, lying down in the grass, and Credence walks down to the road between John’s pasture and the others.  
  
His heart is pounding, adrenaline in his veins, and he blinks sweat out of his eyes and gets down onto his knee. He points the rifle, so unsure of himself with it still, but the horses aren’t in his line of sight at all.  
  
Only a black bear, who sees him, he knows, and is watching him as warily as Credence is watching him.  
  
“Shhh,” he whispers to Lady, who growls more. “Stay.”  
  
He wishes he could let her go, let her be loud enough to wake up Percy so he could be the one to do this, but he doesn’t want her anywhere near the bear if it decided to turn on her.  
  
Credence hopes the bear turns and goes back into the forest, because he doesn’t want to shoot, doesn’t want to scare anyone, especially not John, who is not so far behind him.  
  
But the black bear begins to move forward again and the horses are growing agitated, as is Lady.  
  
Credence shoots.  
  
The shot is shockingly loud in the dark of night, echoing across the valley, when Percy is not at his side and giving him tips, when he has nothing but the blood in his ears and the sweat on his face, and the squeals of the horses as they gallop to the other end of the pasture.  
  
The bear flinches badly and turns, running off back toward the forest, so much faster than Credence expects him to be able to run. It’s frightening but he drops the rifle and grabs Lady, who wants to chase after him and looks back at John, who is tossing his head angrily, but he’s not as terrified as Credence thought he would be.  
  
The porch light flips on and Percy is there, a rifle in his hand, and he sees Credence in front of John’s pasture. Lady jumps out of his grasp and runs to him, barking until he tells her to be quiet as he stomps down the porch and across the grass to Credence.  
  
“What the hell happened?” he barks.  
  
Credence flinches a little. “A bear,” he mutters and points at where it had been. “It kept coming so I did what you told me to do.”  
  
Percy stares at him, breathing deeply and he shakes his head as he looks down the road, then at the horses. He looks at John then and his jaw is working, as he grinds his teeth.  
  
“Credence,” Percy says and sounds like he’s close to losing his patience. “I know you’ve been spending a lot of nights out here, but you shouldn’t be out here at one in the morning. Lady would have let us know about the bear.”  
  
“John and Lady did let me know and I always have my rifle,” Credence says with some offense as he stands, his knees wobbly and his hands trembling badly. “It’s a good thing I was out here, it was much closer than last time.”  
  
“It was much closer than last time because Lady is out here with _you_ instead of around on the back of the porch where she should be,” Percy says and he is angry, now. “He could have come from there,” he says and points at the woods just beyond John’s pasture, “and it could be too late for you or Lady.”  
  
“That’s not going to happen,” Credence says tiredly. “They’d hear him long before I would.”  
  
“Not if Lady isn’t alert. It’s her entire reason for being here,” Percy snaps. “She needs to be on the back porch and you need to be asleep instead of worrying about the damn horse.”  
  
Credence feels tears in his eyes and it’s so unexpected that it makes him angry too. He leaves his rifle and stomps off down the path and tries not to feel a little sense of satisfaction when Lady tears off ahead of him, to investigate where the bear had been.  
  
“Don’t you walk away from me, Credence,” Percy says and there’s a clear warning in his voice.  
  
Credence stops and grits his teeth. “I don’t have anything to say right now, sir,” he says. “I’m going to see if I hit him.”  
  
And he keeps walking, because he knows Percy isn’t going to fire him, but he’s angrier than he’s been in a long time. It’s what he never wanted to hear. That he should be leaving John alone, because Percy has given up on him, and he has no clue that John isn’t beyond saving. That he lets Credence rub his nose and listens when Credence talks, gentleness in his eyes that isn’t there when Percy’s near.  
  
Credence gets to where Lady’s sniffing at the ground after inspecting the horses and to his immense surprise, there’s a splatter of blood on the ground and across a fence post. He sees dark spots on the ground leading off to the woods behind the house, and it’s not a lot, but he wonders how badly injured the bear is. He doesn’t go any closer but he hears Percy approach and stiffens.  
  
But Percy doesn’t say anything, merely looks at the blood and follows it over to the creek, his rifle in his hand. He stays there for a while before making his way back to Credence, glancing at the barn, but he seems satisfied it’s still locked up tight.  
  
“Get your rifle and be ready at dawn with Missy. We’ll see how far we can follow the blood,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “Then you and I are having a conversation.”  
  
Credence finds he can’t look at him. “Fine,” he says evenly and waits for Percy to leave, back up to the porch. He orders Lady to stay there with a firmness he normally doesn’t have with her and it makes Credence angrier.  
  
He goes back to retrieve his rifle and looks at John, who is still on high alert.  
  
 _“I’m_ not giving up on you,” Credence swears to him and walks back to the addition.  
  
He only just refrains from slamming the door, which would be terribly unprofessional, but he can hear Percy stomping around the house himself.  
  
Credence puts his rifle against the locked door and sits down on the sofa, head in his hands, knowing that dawn is hours away and he won’t be able to sleep, just like the first night with the bear.  
  
It takes ages and Credence is wrung out by the time the morning begins to turn pale blue. He’s exhausted physically and mentally and still occasionally feels a spike of anger. He’d done everything Percy had told him to do if this happened and he’d even hit the bear, but Percy had scolded him nonetheless. It doesn’t seem fair, but Credence is used to that.  
  
He’s in the barn before Percy and getting Missy saddled and ready. When he’s done, he walks her out of the stall and ties the reins loosely around a stall post and that’s when Percy comes in. He’s carrying two covered traveling mugs. He hands one to Credence silently and he smells coffee and is glad for that, at least. He puts it in a saddle bag and once Percy has gotten Red Jack ready, they walk them out of the barn and mount then. The sun is breaking over the horizon, casting golden light over the land, and the forest is slightly misty, but it’s beautiful all the same.  
  
Lady walks ahead of the horses, following the scent of blood, and Credence watches Percy just ahead of him, holding his rifle close. There’s tension in every inch of him and Credence wants to tell him to stop being an asshole, that he was well within his right to take a shot at the bear, that he doesn’t have to wait for permission. The whole idea was that he could protect the ranch and it makes him feel inadequate all over again.  
  
That Percy thinks he’s delicate and incapable, always needing a helping hand, and he is immensely relieved that he will be getting a couple days’ break after this.  
  
They ride through the woods and across creeks for at least two hours before Lady abruptly stops and stares ahead, alert. Credence and Percy stop too and Credence doesn’t quite see what they do, when Percy gets off his horse, holding his rifle.  
  
Credence does as well, because Percy doesn’t tell him not to, and he follows them to another creek he hadn’t noticed, down in a small ditch, and there, lies the bear.  
  
It’s dead, a large dark stain of blood on its left shoulder, and Credence knows he must have hit some vital organs, but the bear had gotten far before he couldn’t go on anymore. The creek has washed away the blood, for the most part, but Credence stares down at the bear and feels sick.  
  
It’s life out here, he knows that. Ranchers are allowed to shoot bears and even people who trespass on their land, especially so if they’re threats, and yet Credence has only killed cockroaches and a rat once, when he left a trap.  
  
Killing a bear is different and it’s not something that satisfies him. He stumbles back a little and walks back to Missy, scratching and rubbing her neck with a sigh.  
  
“That was a good shot,” Percy says as he walks back to Credence and Credence feels his eyes on him, but he doesn’t look back. “Bear meat is worth keeping around, especially in the winter—”  
  
“I don’t want to eat him,” Credence interrupts, rather horrified by the thought.  
  
Percy sighs. “Nothing goes to waste in the mountains, Credence. That’s the way of life. You could earn a pretty dollar for his hide.”  
  
“I don’t want to do that either,” Credence snaps and moves away, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t want to see him again.”  
  
Percy is quiet for a long time. He moves closer to Credence and gently touches his back, but Credence shakes him off. “Credence,” Percy says and it’s softer than it’s been since yesterday. “You were protecting the ranch. It’s alright.”  
  
Credence laughs and he does look at Percy now and he’s mortified there are tears in his eyes, but he can’t help them. “Then why are you so angry at me for doing just that?”  
  
Percy looks away, out across the trees and leans his rifle against one of them. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry I lost my temper with you,” he says as he looks at Credence again. “You didn’t deserve that.”  
  
“No, I didn’t,” Credence says angrily. “You’ve been spending all this time teaching me to shoot, to read the signs of a predator being nearby, telling me what to do if I got there first. You’ve been teaching me what it means to protect the ranch and the moment I do, you yell at me like I’ve done something terrible.”  
  
Percy watches him, his brow furrowed and he shakes his head. He pulls his hat off and holds it and Credence realizes he looks uncomfortable. “You didn’t do anything terrible,” he says. “You’re right. You did what I’ve been teaching you and I’m glad for it. You did well, Credence.”  
  
“Then why were you so angry?” Credence demands and he knows he shouldn’t be making any demands of his employer, but he can’t help it.  
  
“Is it really so hard to see?” Percy mutters as he looks down at his hat. When he looks at Credence again, who can only frown, Percy sighs. “I care about you, Credence. It frightened me to hear a shot that didn’t come from my own rifle and from the front of the house too. I was scared of what might have happened.”  
  
Credence sniffs and wipes his nose, looking away. “You should trust me,” he mutters. “To not shoot myself or shoot a rifle at all unless I mean to.”  
  
“I didn’t know it was a bear,” Percy says. “There were a lot of things I thought about before I saw you. I thought John might have hurt you.”  
  
“He would never,” Credence hisses. “And I’m not going to stop worrying about him, Percy.”  
  
Percy gazes at him and he looks wounded. “No,” he agrees. “No, I know you’re not. I’m sorry for asking you to begin with.” He steps closer and moves his hand hesitantly to Credence’s shoulder and squeezes it when he doesn’t move away. “I let my temper get the best of me because I was scared something had happened to you. I _do_ trust you, Credence, but I’m afraid my thoughts will always go there if this happens again.”  
  
Credence frowns as he watches Percy. He wants to ask why Percy cares if something happens to him, but that’s a stupid question. They care about each other, they’re friends, and he supposes he really can’t blame Percy for being concerned about him. It stung, what he had said about John, but he’s taken that back now. It’s odd, Credence thinks, to have someone care about you so much they get angry about it when they think you’re in danger.  
  
He’s certainly never experienced that before.  
  
“I suppose I understand that,” Credence mutters and looks at the ground, at the pine needles and small pebbles.  
  
“I don’t think you quite do,” Percy says quietly as he puts his hat back on. His hand slides to the back of Credence’s neck, until Credence looks at him again. “I don’t think you understand how much I care about you.”  
  
Credence stares, his lips parting in a bit of shock, because he recognizes the look in Percy’s eyes. It’s the affection and fondness and softness he’s used to, but there’s something deeper, something more than that. It’s heat, Credence realizes, and he blushes at the thought of it, but it’s still a different heat than he had seen in Pennsylvania, only one goal in mind. Not tinged with genuine care.  
  
“Percy,” he whispers, because he doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s afraid if he says anything more, he’ll ruin it, a thought that never leaves his mind.  
  
But Percy always makes things so easy, for both of them. He moves closer, his hands sliding to Credence’s cheeks, and he pulls him close. Credence comes, with no resistance, and Percy’s lips touch his own. There’s an electric feeling to it already, making his fingers tingle and ache, and he reaches up to grasp Percy’s shirt tightly in his hands.  
  
It’s a chaste thing, until Credence realizes Percy is looking for permission, and he gladly gives it, opening himself to Percy. The kiss deepens and Credence’s arms move around Percy, so they’re pressed together. Percy’s hand slides across his back, warm and firm and steady.  
  
Credence is feeling lightheaded as he tastes Percy, coffee and mint, and he reaches up, pulling his hat off and letting it fall to the forest floor so he can do what he’s been wanting to since March. He runs his fingers through Percy’s soft hair, a little damp with sweat, the July morning hot, but it’s wonderful. So wonderful.  
  
Percy groans, sending Credence’s head spinning, and he finds himself pressed up against a tree. He keeps one hand tangled in Percy’s hair and slides the other one down his back, whimpering as they explore each other. When they break apart to breathe, Percy doesn’t pull away. He merely presses his lips to Credence’s cheek and along his jaw, until Credence tips his head back, gasping when Percy’s lips press against the sensitive skin there.  
  
“Percy,” he whispers and he finds that his blood is boiling, his skin heated, and arousal pooling in his belly, but they’re in the middle of the woods, surrounded by horses and a dog. “Shit. Percy, please,” he whines, when Percy pulls down his shirt and begins to suck at the skin above his collar.  
  
Percy pulls away finally, looking at Credence, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “You’re beautiful, Credence,” he says, breathing as deeply as Credence is. “Stunning. Every bit of you.”  
  
Credence bites his lip hard, arousal strong in his veins, and tries to clear his head a little. “You are too,” he says. “The first time I saw you I thought about turning back because I didn’t think I could work with a man like you.”  
  
He blushes after he’s said it, a little mortified, but Percy only laughs, with affection and a knowing sort of glint in his eyes.  
  
“I would have kept you on even if I wasn’t attracted to you but I can promise you some of it was selfishly done, if you don’t mind my saying so,” Percy says. “I knew you had potential but watching you grow here has been a very fine thing for me.”  
  
Credence is blushing more hotly, cursing his pale skin and perpetual embarrassment. “Oh,” he peeps and tries to stop a smile, but he can’t. “Why didn’t… why didn’t you tell me?”  
  
Percy raises his eyebrows. “It’s not easy to tell a man you’re interested in him and ask if he’s interested in you too out here,” he says. “But I’ve hoped I wasn’t reading you wrong when I’ve seen you look at me. I hoped you understood what it meant when I looked at you.”  
  
“I wanted to believe it,” Credence says and swallows dryly. “But I thought… well, not many people have ever been interested in me. I didn’t want to think you meant it and it turned out to be nothing more than friendship. I didn’t want you to make me leave if you knew how I felt and thought I was unnatural.”  
  
Percy’s eyebrows raise higher and he huffs a small laugh. _“Unnatural,”_ he says. “You’ve said that before. I thought you were agreeing with what your mother said about unnaturalness.”  
  
Credence blinks at him for a while. “My mother was insane,” he says flatly. “And everything she ever said was wrong.”  
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t understand that at the time,” Percy says with a smile and he leans in again, kissing along Credence’s jaw. “No, Credence, I could never make you leave. I want you here, at my side, through all the seasons that come.”  
  
Credence bites his lip as he tilts his head back, looking up at the branches of the tree above him. He feels misty-eyed again and blinks quickly to try and get rid of it. “I want that too,” he whispers and if he’s a little afraid to say it, maybe Percy won’t blame him for it.  
  
Percy kisses him again, searing and passionate and Credence can do nothing but hold on and moan helplessly when Percy’s hand slides down his side and grips his hip. He presses their groins together and Credence is relieved he’s not the only one that’s aroused.  
  
When they part again, panting, Credence shakes his head. “I can’t… I can’t…” he manages and frowns when Percy starts to pull away. “I’m out of breath, give me a minute.” It makes Percy laugh then and Credence grins. “I can’t do this in the middle of the woods.”  
  
“Who said we were doing anything in the middle of the woods?” Percy asks, but he’s clearly a liar because he’s grinding against Credence.  
  
“Percy,” Credence whines. “I’m serious. I don’t like it done out here.”  
  
Percy stops grinding and raises his eyebrows high on his forehead. “Oh? You have experience doing this out here?”  
  
Credence frowns at him. “I’m almost thirty years old, you know,” he mumbles. But he sighs and shrugs. “Just twice, in Pennsylvania. I suppose I was only twenty-seven then…”  
  
Percy is laughing again and shakes his head. “Please tell me no one fucked you up against a tree.”  
  
“No,” Credence croaks, his cheeks still hot. “Just hands, nothing more. And I was terrified of getting caught, there were a lot more people on that ranch.”  
  
“Well,” Percy says dryly. “We have five hundred acres to work with, if you ever become more fond of it. But you’re right. I would much rather press you into my mattress and make love to you there.”  
  
“Oh,” Credence whispers and bites his lip. “I like the sound of that.”  
  
“When you come back from Charlottesville,” Percy says and kisses Credence’s chin, then his lips, chasing away his frown. “When you come back, we’ll take the proper time out for it.”  
  
“I don’t leave for two days, you know.”  
  
“I do know that,” Percy says with a smile. “You’ll be glad we waited.”  
  
Credence moves his fingers through Percy’s hair and slides his hand down to his cheek and the tender gaze Percy gives him threatens to make him say something that might be too soon to say. He kisses Percy instead and nods after.  
  
They pull away from each other reluctantly and look at the horses, who look bored, while Lady lays at the edge of the ditch, waiting for her humans to be done with whatever they’re doing.  
  
Credence smiles, but then he remembers the bear and grimaces. “Will you come back for it?” he asks quietly as Percy picks up his rifle.  
  
“We can leave it,” Percy says and whistles for Lady. “But I can’t promise you we’ll be leaving any more useful game.”  
  
“Fair,” Credence sighs with relief. “I’m sorry, I know it’s the way it’s done, but—”  
  
“West Virginia and the Blue Ridge Mountains may be your home, but there’s still a city man in you,” Percy says but he’s smiling, like it isn’t a bad thing. “Don’t apologize for it. I happen to like both sides of you very much.”  
  
Credence grins and looks away, moving to Missy and untying her from the tree. “Alright,” he says. “Thank you, Percy.” He mounts Missy and watches Percy do the same to Red Jack, his hat back on.  
  
“Home then,” Percy says with a smile.  
  
“Home,” Credence agrees.  
  
It’s a far better trip back home, the sun higher in the sky, hot the way summer is, and Credence thinks a dip in the river would be nice, but he’ll broach that with Percy when he’s back from Charlottesville.  
  
——  
  
There’s a shift between them that Credence never thought he would experience in his life. Maybe a fleeting encounter here and there, but nothing like this.  
  
Nothing like shared smiles and glances, nothing like Percy’s hand dragging across Credence’s hip when he passes him. Nothing like forgetting things for a while in the barn and kissing, kissing until it becomes too heated and Percy demands they get back to work.  
  
Nothing like the searing kiss he gives Credence before bed over the two nights before Tina and Queenie will come to get him.  
  
It’s… well, incredible. As incredible as West Virginia, as incredible as having a home, as finally being where he belongs. It leaves him breathless, when he’s with Percy and when he’s not, to know that Percy cares about him the way he does. That he wants Credence around forever, which means growing older together, retiring one day, maybe, with Percy’s fortune, no matter if his name is still stained black or not.  
  
The morning Credence is leaving for his weekend trip, he gets bathed and dressed, since Percy told him not to worry about the horses, and packs what he thinks he’ll need. Which isn’t much.  
  
There’s a knock on his door and he knows who it is, smiles when he tells Percy to come in, smiles wider when he steps inside. He closes the door behind himself and walks to Credence, kissing his cheek and rubbing his back.  
  
Credence thinks it’s going to take a long time for those simple things to stop taking his breath away too.  
  
“You ready?” Percy asks.  
  
“Yes,” Credence says and smiles. “It’s going to be odd seeing the city after over four months of being out here.”  
  
“Well, Charlottesville is not the city Manhattan is, I’m sure,” Percy chuckles. “But I hope you enjoy it all the same.”  
  
“I wish you were coming with us,” Credence says as he looks down at his small suitcase and closes it.  
  
“We’ll make trips of our own,” Percy says. “There are other places in the mountains I’d like to show you someday.”  
  
Credence smiles as he looks at Percy. “I’d like to see anywhere you want to show me,” he says. “I hope I can see a race one day though.”  
  
Percy raises his eyebrows and shrugs. “That can be arranged.”  
  
“With you.”  
  
“I know,” Percy says with a smirk. “I know more than just the tracks in Richmond. I’ll figure it out.”  
  
Credence nods and is unable to stop smiling, but that’s going on two days now. “Thank you,” he says. “They’ll be like different horses if I ever get to see some of yours race.”  
  
“One day,” Percy says. “One day we’ll probably see _yours_ race.”  
  
Credence laughs. “Quest and Lucky,” he says, two horses he is very, very fond of these days. “Which one do you think has the most potential?”  
  
Percy chuckles. “Going by spunk alone, Quest. Give me about ten months and I’ll tell you who the winner is,” he says and winks. He kisses Credence then, slow and sweet, and they only part when a car horn honks.  
  
They walk out together and Credence says goodbye to Miss Hornwall, who sniffs and tells him to behave himself, and after he’s made that promise, they walk outside. The automobile the girls have brought is incredibly nice, with a top that comes down, Credence can see. They’re wearing summer dresses and hats, carefree and joyful and Credence is glad to see them again, even if he wishes Percy would be coming along.  
  
They talk for a while, until Percy says he should get some work done, and Credence says goodbye to him and watches him go with a sigh. He looks at the Goldsteins, who are smiling between each other, then at him.  
  
After getting in the car, which Tina is driving, Queenie sitting in the back, they begin to tell him all sorts of things that have been going on in the world of horse racing and indeed, the world itself it seems. He’s still a little nervous, he barely knows them, but they talk to him like they’ve known him as long as they’ve known Percy.  
  
Queenie is delightfully funny and sweet, while Tina is more cutting and sarcastic, and he likes both of them immensely now that he’s not worried Percy might be marrying one of them.  
  
He even feels daring enough to ask if Queenie really has a man in the city.  
  
She gasps and looks at Tina as she snickers.  
  
“How on earth did you hear that, honey? I know Percy doesn’t pay attention to rumors,” Queenie laughs. “Musta been Miss Hornwall. Yeah, honey, I got a man, but we don’t tell Daddy that. Not until he’s put a ring on my finger anyway. Which is gonna take a while, he’s a humble man from a humble living. Daddy’s not going to like it but if he thinks I’m marrying a fifty year old jackass…”  
  
Credence grins as he looks at Queenie. “What’s he do for a living?”  
  
“He’s a baker! Owns his own shop and everything. We’ll swing by and see him, he’ll be happy to meet you,” Quenie says with a dimpled grin. “Of course, we can’t forget the other occupant here…”  
  
Credence feels a brief shock of fear and panic, but Queenie is staring pointedly at her sister. Tina shrugs, spreading her hands out over the steering wheel.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says simply, but she’s smiling, just at the corner of her mouth.  
  
“Sure ya don’t,” Queenie says. “Just like I don’t know he comes around the ranch every year and spends an awful, awful lot of time talking to you about those… axel things.”  
  
“Axolotls?” Credence asks with a bit more shock.  
  
“Yes!” Queenie says. “How do you know what they are, honey?”  
  
“Because I know the man who owns them,” Credence says and shrugs when Tina gapes at him. “He probably comes to all the ranches every year.”  
  
Tina scowls. “Well, yes,” she mutters. “But don’t you tell my Daddy. We’re going to put him in an early grave before the horses do.”  
  
Credence grins. “But he’s a doctor, isn’t he?”  
  
“He’s English,” Tina says flatly. “That makes him out of the question.”  
  
“Though considering we’re both in our thirties, Daddy might just give in anyway, rather than having old, unmarried daughters staining his name,” Queenie says with a roll of her eyes.  
  
“You’re not old,” Credence says with a smile, though he knows what they mean.  
  
Queenie giggles. “I guess that’s me and Teenie sorted,” she says. “Maybe we ought to get Credence sorted.”  
  
Credence blushes and looks out of the window at the passing landscape. “I’d prefer not to be, but thank you.”  
  
“No summer flings for you, Mister Barebone?”  
  
“Even if I wanted a summer fling, I’d have to go far out of my way to find someone who doesn’t care about Percy’s name,” he says and shrugs. “It’s not worth it.”  
  
Queenie hums. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t be,” she says. “I guess you and Percy are just gonna have to learn to live with each other forever and always.”  
  
Credence’s cheeks are hot and he’s a little uncomfortable, because it almost sounds as if they know. But they can’t know, they only saw Credence and Percy for a brief moment together and they’d done nothing untoward. And it’s not like Percy sent them a piece of mail over the last two days announcing it.  
  
“Stop teasing him,” Tina chides. “There’s nothing wrong with no summer flings.”  
  
“I suppose they were more fun… whew, a very long time ago,” Queenie says with a smile. “Look at us, unmarried thirty-somethings. Ought to be ashamed of ourselves.”  
  
“I’m twenty-nine,” Credence says and smiles when Queenie and Tina laugh.  
  
——  
  
Charlottesville is vastly different from New York City. It’s tiny, no skyscrapers whatsoever, but there are colorful buildings and cobblestone streets and walkways, all shaded by green trees. There are restaurants and plenty of places to shop for a wide variety of things.  
  
They book two hotel rooms for the night and then go out for lunch to a quaint little restaurant with hearty, rich food and large desserts to split. Everyone is kind, openly speaking with each other, even if they don’t know each other’s names.  
  
It’s so different but Credence likes it. He’s not nearly as open as Queenie and Tina, but they talk enough for him, never mentioning whose ranch he works at, if his work comes up at all. They end up spending hours in the restaurant and when they leave, Credence feels satisfied in a way he doesn’t expect.  
  
He supposes that’s what good socializing with friends is supposed to feel like.  
  
They go shopping in a few different stores. Tina and Queenie buy dresses as much as they buy trousers and they each get a pair of new riding boots. Queenie likes summer hats more than Tina, who buys herself a cowboy hat, brown with a purple trim that fits her.  
  
It takes a lot of cajoling for them to convince Credence to even try on a cowboy hat but he does, wincing whenever he gets a look at himself in the mirror. White is awful, brown is slightly better and yet still awful, grey makes him look like a bank robber, but when Queenie drops a black hat on his head, he appraises himself a little closer.  
  
“Mhmm,” Queenie hums, like she knew it would be the one to catch his attention. “Fits your complexion just right, honey. Keep wearing dark boots and you may just start makin’ statements.”  
  
“I don’t want to make statements,” Credence mumbles as he looks at himself for another moment or two. He takes the hat off and twirls it, wondering what Percy might say. Percy favors traditionally brown or light tan hats and they fit him well, but he doesn’t know if Percy is ever thinking about making a _statement_ when he gets dressed in the morning.  
  
“Black it is,” Tina says dryly as she adds the hat to the top of the basket she carries on her arm. “You need anything else?”  
  
Credence sighs. “Oh,” he says, “a new wardrobe. After four months of getting used to ranch living, Miss Hornwall has sewn up most of my clothes by now more than once. I should get some hardier clothes.”  
  
“And even hardier ones in a couple months, when the weather starts to turn,” Queenie says with a smile. “I’m sure Percy will take you shopping for those.”  
  
Credence shrugs and smiles. “It’s hard to leave the ranch unattended.”  
  
“He made do before you came along, he can make do with you here,” Tina says dryly. “Hollis loves sitting out on his porch and drinking whiskey in peace and quiet to escape all of his own ranch hands. He’s always itching for Percy to ask him to watch over everything for a few hours.”  
  
“But this would be a couple days,” Credence argues. “He drinks too much.”  
  
“That’s what he’d like you to believe,” Queenie says. “I’ve seen that man finish a fifth of whiskey and herd his sheep like he hadn’t had a drop. Real elegant about it, after doin’ it for so long.”  
  
Credence smiles, when he remembers Percy saying something similar. “Alright,” he sighs. “I’ll see if he can spare the time for me.”  
  
Queenie and Tina exchange an amused glance that he decides not to look into too much and they pay for their purchases and head to a store more catered to only men. Credence hasn’t spent any of the money he’s been making, really, so he has more money than he’s had in all his life at the moment.  
  
He’s afraid to spend a lot of it still, always wary something bad will happen, but he thinks of Percy, of his smile, of what he’s promised when Credence gets home. His home, his bed, all of him.  
  
So Credence buys a few trousers and quite a few hardy shirts, packs of cotton shirts and underclothes, and two new pairs of boots, both dark, but not shiny, because those are silly, in his opinion. When they leave the store, he feels satisfied with himself, and looks around Charlottesville, an entirely different world than the one he used to know.  
  
It seems like so long ago. Manhattan feels like a distant memory when he thinks about it, but it turns more sinister if he focuses for too long, so he simply doesn’t do that anymore.  
  
He does wonder what Mary Lou would think of him now, locked away alone in her little church, frightening the neighborhood children and getting half of Manhattan to hate her.  
  
Credence has gained the world and she’s still in hell, where she belongs.  
  
He has ice cream with Queenie and Tina and they sit around a fountain on a bench and chat for a while, until the sun sets. They go to the hotel and leave their new purchases in their rooms and head to the lounge for dinner. It’s a nice place, people dressed well, and Credence feels a little out of place but most eyes in the room are on Queenie and Tina anyway.  
  
They eat steak and baked potatoes and Credence tries a sip of Queenie’s champagne. It isn’t bad, but he doesn’t want to drink alcohol all the same, and Tina mumbles that that’s a good thing, with her sister around. But they drink champagne and spirits after, loosening their shoulders, and Credence doesn’t need to be tipsy to laugh with them.  
  
A few men approach them throughout the evening and Queenie is immensely talented at telling them off with something that sounds like a compliment, but they always seem to realize it wasn’t by the time they’re halfway across the room. It makes Credence giggle every time and if any of them have a problem, a single raised eyebrow from Tina finishes them off for good.  
  
Credence likes them immensely, he’s decided, when they go to bed very late that night. He sleeps in his own little hotel room overlooking the quiet street below and keeps the curtains open so he can watch the starry night sky and wonders if Percy is looking at the same view.  
  
In the morning, a bit of a later start than they meant for, they take him to the bakery owned by the man Queenie is seeing. Credence wonders how often they see each other, a good three hour distance between them, but perhaps that makes it more special, when he sees how they both light up.  
  
The man isn’t quite what Credence was expecting for Queenie and he feels somewhat guilty for that, but the second the man introduces himself as Jacob, Credence laughs.  
  
“Brooklyn?”  
  
“Born and raised,” Jacob says with a grin. “Haven’t seen a fellow New Yorker in years.”  
  
Queenie giggles. “I thought you two might get along,” she says with a beaming smile. “Credence here is working with Mister Graves.”  
  
“Really?” Jacob asks with some surprise as he looks at Credence. “I’ve been down here seven years now and I ain’t heard of anyone working with Mister Graves. We New Yorkers tend to worm our way in wherever we want though, don’t we?”  
  
“I suppose that’s true,” Credence says with a smile, his cheeks warm. “What made you choose Charlottesville?”  
  
“The scenery, my friend, the scenery,” Jacob says as he wipes some flour off his hands. He loads up a tray with some of his baked goods. “Just beautiful. So much more green here and those mountains. Oh, I love the mountains.”  
  
Credence grins, because he thinks he knows a little something about that, and they sit at a tiny bistro table not meant for four people, but they make do. They sample Jacob’s baked goods, recipes from his grandmother, and Credence thinks he could have rivaled any bakery in New York City and that the people in Charlottesville probably don’t quite know the treat they have with him here.  
  
They talk for a long while and Jacob is talented at keeping up with the stream of conversation even while he helps customers, his assistant off on his lunch. Credence enjoys talking with him, enjoys talking about places they know, and they laugh when Tina and Queenie wrinkle their noses in envy when they talk about Central Park during Christmas.  
  
“Even though it’s a nice sight, I won’t miss it,” Credence admits with a shrug.  
  
“Me neither,” Jacob says and takes Queenie’s hand. “Well, not really. I’d take you there someday, Queenie, if you wanted me to.”  
  
Tina and Credence glance at each other and smile, taking bites of their chocolate croissants.  
  
Once they’ve stopped making cow eyes at each other, Tina says they need to be off to make it up into the mountains before the sun sets. Credence leaves the shop after shaking Jacob’s hand and waits outside with Tina for a few minutes.  
  
“I can’t tease her too much,” Tina says and smiles at Credence. “Mister Scamander and I have only had dinner a couple times, but… I’m hoping it’s more than that. He’s very nice.”  
  
“He is,” Credence says with a smile. “He was kind to me when he came by. I like that he understands animals more than just what ails them. I think men that are kind to animals are far more trustworthy than the ones that aren’t.”  
  
Tina’s smiling warmly as she gazes at Credence. “I think so too,” she says softly. “Big hearts like those, what more can we ask for, huh?”  
  
Credence nods in agreement before he starts a little when he realizes she said _we._ But that was probably meaning her and her sister or women in general, rather than Tina and himself. Either way, it makes him sweat a bit, and he’s glad Queenie comes outside. They get their belongings from the hotel and get in the car for the long drive home.  
  
He watches the scenery, feeling warm and refreshed and genuinely content. They talk, but it’s not as loud or filled with as much laughter, but it’s good conversation all the same. Meaningful conversation between friends, he thinks, something he’s only dreamed of.  
  
Credence had made friends in Pennsylvania but when they had offered for him to go with them, he had turned them down. They were friends, yes, but not the type he would keep close to his heart. Not like Queenie or Tina or Percy.  
  
Though Percy is certainly more than a friend now, it's the foundation of their relationship, strong and sure.  
  
It springs to his mind quite suddenly, when he recalls speaking of Mister Scamander with Tina, how Percy had behaved after he spent a while talking to him. Another man with a big heart and love for animals, while Percy was longing for him without knowing Credence was longing for him just the same.  
  
It makes him laugh then and he supposes they both suffered some jealousy that ended up being completely unfounded.  
  
There won’t be any more of that.  
  
“What’s got you grinning, Mister Barebone?” Queenie asks from the back seat, smiling when he glances back at her.  
  
“Just happy, is all,” Credence says with a smile.  
  
“A special kind of happy, I think, huh?”  
  
Credence bites his lip and shrugs. “The kind that comes with finding where you belong, at least.”  
  
Queenie smiles again. “Look at the three of us,” she says with a sigh. “Took us all a while but here we are, three people in the beginning of being in love. Ain’t it somethin’ Tina?”  
  
“Mhmm,” Tina hums and glances at Credence when he looks out of the windshield.  
  
His heart is hammering and his palms are sweaty, but he hopes that Queenie means that he’s in love with his home and not Percy.  
  
“Credence,” Tina says gently. “Queenie and I are only a few years younger than Percy. We’ve known each other since we were kids, remember?”  
  
“Yes,” Credence croaks, not liking where this is going.  
  
“Let’s just say that if boys his age weren’t looking at Queenie and then me when she brushed them all off, they weren’t looking at any other girls. There weren’t any others around our age.”  
  
“Oh,” Credence peeps and is feeling rather terrified, because this is dangerous conversation. He trusts Tina and Queenie, but if they’re prying for something they won’t like, it’ll ruin their newfound friendship and the thought makes him more upset.  
  
“Aww, honey,” Queenie says as she leans closer to him. “Don’t be so afraid. Teenie and I care about Percy and what makes him happy. We weren’t lyin’ when we said we were happy you found him and he found you. It’s a weight off our shoulders, knowing he isn’t alone. That he might have found some happiness for himself.”  
  
Credence blushes and wipes some sweat off his forehead. “But I…” he trails off and grimaces. “I mean, erm. Well, Percy and I…”  
  
“It’s okay, Credence,” Tina says with a smile. “You don’t have to tell us anything. We just want you to know we’re happy you found where you belong. We’re happy you’re happy and we’re happy Percy is happy. That’s all.”  
  
“That’s right, sugar,” Queenie says. “And if you ever need anything at all, you tell us, huh? We’ve got to do this once or month. Convince Percy to join us too.”  
  
Credence nods and licks his lips nervously. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Yeah, we should. I’d like that. He would too. As long as you don’t make him drink too much.”  
  
Queenie snorts as she giggles. “Oh, did I have him blushin’ that night,” she says with a grin as she leans back. “Only had to say your name and he was red as a tomato. His glare is far less impressive when he looks like that, poor guy.”  
  
Credence is sure he’s as red as a tomato too but he can’t help but laugh. “Miss Hornwall said you only had to tease him to get him drinking.”  
  
“It was worse now that I had a name to say,” Queenie says with a fond smile. “I think he called you lovely four times before we got him to his bed.”  
  
“Oh,” Credence groans and covers his face. “Lovely?”  
  
“He’s never uttered that word before that I know of,” Tina says dryly. “But he just couldn’t get over _how_ lovely you are, Credence.”  
  
Credence ends up laughing, they all do, and something breaks after that. The last bit of iron fear, he thinks, the last bit of suspicion that Queenie and Tina might turn on him and call him something awful, but they won’t. They never will, the way they never have done so with Percy.  
  
They’re modern women, Credence thinks, the kind his mother would despise for merely existing. It’s another thrill he gets, to know everything she said was such a lie, was only a ploy to keep people from actually being happy.  
  
And Credence is immensely happy.  
  
They make it up the mountain and to the ranch an hour before the sun will set, just enough time for Tina and Queenie to get back home before it’s truly dark.  
  
Percy meets them outside with Lady in tow and she leaps on Credence when she sees him and he laughs and scratches her ears.  
  
“Looks like Charlottesville did you all some good,” Percy says warmly. “Get home before it gets dark, will you?”  
  
“Will do,” Queenie says. “See you two.”  
  
They all hug each other and Credence waves when they drive away, off down the road and eventually through the trees, disappearing down the main road. He sighs and looks at Percy, who takes some of his belongings.  
  
“Did you buy the whole store?” Percy asks.  
  
Credence laughs. “Just a new wardrobe,” he says with a grin.  
  
Percy smiles and takes the rest of Credence’s belongings. He merely winks when Credence frowns and gestures behind him.  
  
Credence looks and feels his heart leap, when he sees John waiting at the fence of his pasture, looking at Credence with interest. He glances back at Percy, but he’s carrying his things inside, taking Lady in with him. Credence turns back to John and walks to the fence, slow as always, but John doesn’t turn aggressive.  
  
He lets Credence walk right up to him and touch his nose. Credence gazes at him, sliding his hand up his nose to his forehead, brushing his fingers through his forelock. He rubs his cheeks and smiles when John noses at his shirt.  
  
“I missed you too,” he says quietly. “I’ll bring you sugar cubes tonight.”  
  
John snorts and Credence smiles, rubbing his nose before pulling away, as much as he’d like to stay. But John seems to forgive him, turning and walking through his pasture until he finds grass to graze on.  
  
Credence walks up the steps onto the porch and steps inside, smelling dinner, so familiar, and looks around the house. He’d only been gone one night but it’s a relief to be home all the same.  
  
Percy appears from the hallway and he smiles at Credence, wide and achingly beautiful, and when Credence walks to him, he opens his arms and Credence slumps into them. He hugs Percy tightly, squeezing his eyes shut and sighing.  
  
“You have a good time?” Percy asks, his voice low as he rubs Credence’s back.  
  
“Mhmm. A really good one,” he says and looks at Percy as he pulls back. They kiss, only chastely, because Miss Hornwall is only one the other side of the wall, cooking dinner.  
  
She calls for them soon enough and Credence sits at the table with Percy. Once dinner has been served, he tells Percy about his experience in Charlottesville, the fun they’d had, the people they’d met, including Jacob from Brooklyn. Percy smiles as he watches Credence speak, looking nothing but happy for him, and Credence wonders if this is what love feels like.  
  
When dinner has been had and Miss Hornwall is washing dinners, Credence tells her about the trip too, because he knows she’ll enjoy hearing who had to say what in town. Percy has gone off into the den and Miss Hornwall eventually sends him off with a plateful of lemon cookies. She disappears upstairs and Credence walks to the den.  
  
The door is open and Percy is behind his desk, looking through a few papers, but he glances up at Credence and smiles, gesturing him in. Credence closes the door and walks to the sofa, sitting down with a sigh. He sets the plate aside after grabbing a cookie and nibbles on it as he looks at Percy.  
  
“What happened here while I was gone?”  
  
Percy smiles as he looks at the paper he’s holding. “What happened before you got here,” he says. “The same as usual. Well, except one thing.”  
  
“What’s that?” Credence asks with a smile.  
  
“I took a note out of your book, Mister Barebone, and sat with Johnnie Walker last night and this morning,” Percy says mildly. “I can’t say he took kindly to it but he didn’t try to lunge at me either.”  
  
Credence smiles and looks down at the cookie in his hand. “I suppose I probably won’t have to sneak out at eleven anymore,” he says as he looks at Percy.  
  
“I knew you’d been doing it for a while,” Percy says as he looks at Credence. “I don’t know how you have the energy for a fourteen hour day after so little sleep.”  
  
“I think sometimes there are things more important than sleep,” Credence says and takes a bit of the cookie, just the right amount of tart and sweet with a thin icing. “Though I’ll be glad to get more, if you want to sit with me after dinner. Or after your nightly whiskey anyway.”  
  
“I would enjoy that,” Percy says as he organizes the papers and tucks them away. He stands and moves to the sofa next to Credence, sitting down and moving an arm around him. “Let me have one of those.”  
  
Credence smiles as he grabs another cookie and hands it to Percy. He leans gently against his side, still such a new and novel thing to him and tentatively puts his hand on Percy’s thigh. But Percy isn’t bothered, taking a bite of his cookie.  
  
“These are good with raspberry icing too,” Percy says. “Raspberries are late this season. Miss Hornwall says to expect more than we can eat in a couple weeks.”  
  
“I’ve had raspberry jam before,” Credence says. “And strawberry jam. I liked them both.”  
  
“You’ve never eaten the fruit?”  
  
Credence shakes his head. “Too expensive in the city and only certain fruits were allowed if we had the money,” he says. “I worked with the horses in Pennsylvania and other people picked fruits and vegetables. We were given jams rather than any whole fruit, those stayed in the main household. But sometimes someone would sneak us a handful of blueberries. I like them too.”  
  
Percy is quiet for a while as he eats the rest of his cookie. “You and I,” he finally says, “are going to have to go berry picking. I have a lot of wild bushes on the property but it’s too long of a distance to usually bother with and the birds will have gotten to most before they’re even ripe. I’ll put something over them, we’ll pick our own raspberries. Eliza and I used to, when this place was busier. I haven’t done it in years but I think it’s about time to start up again.”  
  
Credence smiles as he finishes his cookie and wipes off the corners of his mouth, looking down at their hands when Percy lays his over Credence’s. “Sounds good to me,” he says softly, because he’s not sure what else he can say to such a wonderful offer.  
  
Something no one but Percy would have ever offered him, he thinks.  
  
Percy lifts his hand and kisses his knuckles and Credence watches him, smiling. Percy turns to him then and kisses him, long and slow, tasting like sweet lemon and whiskey, a surprisingly intoxicating mix.  
  
It’s easy to get lost in kissing Percy, in touching him, running his fingers through his dark hair. He’s showered for the night and smells delightfully good, Credence wraps his arms around Percy’s neck and pulls himself closer, until he swings a leg over Percy’s lap and straddles his waist.  
  
Percy’s eyes go dark and he moves his arms around Credence, pulling him down for another kiss. He groans into it, when Credence grinds himself down against Percy.  
  
Credence can feel his arousal and the hard touch of it in his trousers sends a surge of white hot arousal through his own blood. He pulls back to breathe, tilting his head back and Percy takes advantage, kissing his neck, sucking on his sensitive skin until he whines. He digs his fingers into Percy’s hair.  
  
“You said you’re press me into your mattress and make love to me,” he whispers and looks down at Percy when he pulls back to look at Credence.  
  
“I did,” he says and smiles. “And I mean to.”  
  
“Tonight?”  
  
Percy chuckles, deep and husky. “Yes, love,” he says. “If you’re ready.”  
  
“I was ready four days ago,” Credence says and smiles when Percy smirks at him. “What about Miss Hornwall?”  
  
“Well,” Percy says and shrugs. “She is on the other side of the house. But if you’re worried about too much noise, we can use your room too.”  
  
Credence wrinkles his nose. “I definitely want to but I’ve never even seen your bedroom.”  
  
“Then maybe I can convince you to try and not wake up all the whole ranch,” Percy says with a roguish sort of smile and laughs when Credence tugs at his hair in retaliation. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”  
  
Percy kisses Credence once more and they get off the sofa. They leave the den, shutting off the lights and closing the door, before walking upstairs quietly. The stairs creak a little, such an old house and all, but they sound painfully loud to Credence right now. But Percy doesn’t seem worried as he leads Credence down a hall on the right which turns left into another hall with two doors. The one straight ahead is Percy’s bedroom.  
  
When Percy turns on a lamp, Credence looks around, smiling as he does so. There are two wardrobes and another small desk that looks like it might get as much use as the fancy mahogany one downstairs. Credence thinks that he’s perhaps not the only one that operates on little sleep.  
  
The bed is massive, filled with too many pillows for one man, the blankets thick and comfortable. Wolf and deer skin blankets are hanging by one of the windows, to stay aired out for when winter comes most likely. But Percy has a very good view of north, east and south of the house. A very good view of John’s pasture and Credence, whenever he was out there.  
  
But Credence merely sighs at that thought and looks at Percy with a smile. He wants to tell him he likes it here, that it’s decidedly Percy, but he’s too embarrassed to.  
  
Percy kisses him then, just once, and leads Credence to the bed. “Get comfortable,” he says. “However you want.”  
  
Credence smiles and takes his boots off, as well as his socks. His trousers and shirt and undershirt are easy, but he’s a little nervous otherwise. The franticness he’d experienced in Pennsylvania hadn’t led to a lot of time to explore and he’s never been with anyone else. Doesn’t know if he’s appealing.  
  
But with the way Percy is looking at him, eyes dark and heavy-lidded, like he’s never seen a sight better, well, it gives Credence a little more confidence. He drops his underclothes and gets into bed, arranging the pillows for a while before he laughs.  
  
“Why do you have so many pillows?” he asks as he looks at Percy, who is getting out of his own trousers.  
  
“I blame Miss Hornwall,” Percy says darkly. “I was afraid of being alone when I was a child. My mother wouldn’t entertain the thought of spending any time with me and Miss Hornwall gave me an extra pillow and told me it was my company. This happened numerous times, you see. Could never get rid of the habit.”  
  
Credence smiles as he watches Percy pull his cotton shirt off. “That’s very sad and very sweet, you know,” he says and grins as Percy shrugs helplessly.  
  
“Still helps on the nights I feel lonely anyway,” Percy says as he drops his underclothes and gets into bed with Credence.  
  
He doesn’t waste any time pulling Credence against him so he can kiss him. It’s more passionate, more searing and deep, the way he kisses Credence before saying good night to him. But he won’t be saying good night, not yet, and Credence wraps his arms around his neck and pulls Percy closer, until their legs are tangled together and it’s growing hot, very quickly.  
  
Percy seems to agree, as he shoves the blankets back and mutters darkly about the coming August, which makes Credence laugh as he runs his hands along his back. He dares to move down a little further and squeezes a very firm and delightful ass cheek.  
  
Percy hums in approval and kisses Credence again and his own hand slides down his chest, stopping to pinch his nipple and chuckles when he gasps. He kisses Credence’s shoulder and collarbone as he moves his hand over his abdomen, teasing him by stroking his thumb over Credence’s hip bone and steadily closer to his aching hardness.  
  
Credence bites his lip hard when Percy’s hand wraps around him, warm and rough and perfect, far better than anyone else, and he moans, trying to stay quiet, when Percy strokes him. He squeezes his eyes shut and looks up to see Percy watching him, his hair hanging over his forehead, beautiful as always.  
  
“Percy,” Credence whispers and gasps as Percy’s thumb swipes over the head of his cock, leaking already. “I want to feel you. All of you. Please.”  
  
“You will, love,” Percy says and places a gentle kiss to Credence’s lips. He moves between Credence’s legs then, encouraging him to spread them.  
  
Credence does so, blushing, and looks at Percy, half lit by the low light of the lamp and the brighter moonlight from the open curtains. It’s a sight Credence won’t be forgetting anytime soon.  
  
He watches Percy slowly slide down along his body, kissing him here and there, dipping his tongue into the grooves of his ribs and abdomen, down to his hip, and Credence watches him until he can’t anymore.  
  
He’s already breathing too heavily and he’s rather afraid Percy is going to touch him and it’ll be done, but Percy avoids his cock for now, kissing along his inner thighs, which might be worse. Credence is a shivering mess either way, gasping and keening whenever tingles shoot through him and goosebumps jump up on his skin.  
  
“Shit,” Credence whispers and licks his lips, daring a look down at Percy.  
  
Percy is looking at him, smiling, and he leans down, pressing his lips to the underside of Credence’s cock, where it lays on his belly.  
  
“Oh, God,” Credence mutters and grasps at the sheets. “Percy, I’ve never…”  
  
“I know, darling,” Percy says quietly, his breath hot on Credence’s cock. “Let me make you feel good.”  
  
Percy wraps his hand around Credence’s cock and Credence watches him as he licks the head of it, licks his precome away, and feels his toes curl. He whimpers, desperately trying to hold in an orgasm, because he won’t ruin this either.  
  
But when Percy takes him in his mouth, into the wet heat, it’s a test of his self control he’s certainly never experienced before. Credence whines, tossing his head back against the pillow, gasping when Percy moves further down.  
  
It’s almost torturously slow and Credence supposes that’s on purpose, as close as he already is. Percy takes him deep into his throat and comes back up, wrapping his hand around Credence to use his spit when he slowly strokes him, as his mouth glides gently up and down along his cock.  
  
“Fuck,” Credence cries, a little too loudly, and bites his knuckle, staring up at the ceiling. “Percy, that’s… oh my God, Percy… I don’t want to come yet,” he whispers frantically.  
  
But Percy doesn’t stop, not until Credence is sweating with the effort to keep himself together, and Percy has to hold his hips down, because Credence can’t quite control the way they buck up.  
  
It’s almost a relief when he lets Credence go and also possibly the worst loss and Credence groans as he looks down at Percy, brushing sweat off his forehead.  
  
“You’re going to kill me,” he mumbles.  
  
Percy chuckles and leans down, kissing the inside of Credence’s thigh again. He slides his hand under Credence’s knee and pushes it up, until Credence bends it, feeling exposed and filthy and more aroused than ever.  
  
“I know you’ve never had someone inside you,” Percy says as he moves his hand to Credence’s ass, running his finger just outside the cleft of it, smiling as he watches Credence jump. “But I don’t want to overwhelm you. There’s plenty to do besides that. What do you want from me, love?”  
  
“I want everything,” Credence sighs as he reaches down, brushing Percy’s hair away from his forehead. “I do. And I’ve imagined a lot of different things with you. One of my favorites is you inside me.”  
  
Percy closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, a bit shakily, as he looks at Credence. “You ever touched yourself here?” he asks as he teases Credence again, pressing closer to his hole.  
  
Credence shudders. “Yes,” he says. “More here than anywhere else I’ve ever lived.”  
  
Percy groans and presses his forehead against Credence’s thigh. “You’ve been just downstairs with your fingers in your ass imagining it was me?”  
  
Credence grins a little. “Yes,” he says, his cheeks warm, but he refuses to be embarrassed. “Mostly in the bathtub, when I could use soap. I like it plenty. I want you in me.”  
  
He feels Percy’s shuddering breath against him before he looks up at Credence, squinting a little. “Alright, love,” he says and leans down, pressing his lips to the tip of Credence’s cock, making him shiver again.  
  
Percy moves up and over, until he can open the nightstand and he fishes around it for a while before producing a bottle of personal lubricant. He waves it at Credence and Credence laughs. Credence moves his hands to Percy’s arms, running his fingers along them, feeling the muscles he’s earned from so much heavy lifting.  
  
Credence is never going to get over the fact that Percy is choosing him, choosing for him to be here with him, choosing him to share his heart.  
  
“What’s the easiest way?” Credence asks after Percy has kissed him again, licking his lips.  
  
“Ass up,” Percy says and shakes his head. “But I’m watching you through this.” He moves down again, his gaze trailing over Credence’s body, until he’s between Credence’s legs again. “Move your knees up.”  
  
Credence can’t help the blush on his cheeks but he does as Percy says, bending his knees, and he feels even exposed this way, but he trusts Percy. And the look Percy has on his face tells him he likes this anyway.  
  
“When was the last time you did this?” he asks as he watches Percy open the bottle of lubricant.  
  
Percy smiles wryly as he gets some on his fingers, slick and shining in the light. “A long time,” he says. “Hard to find anyone out here who I’m attracted to, let alone anyone who wants to do this. This is for my personal enjoyment.” He holds up the bottle of lubricant before setting it aside. “I might have been doing the same thing you were occasionally.”  
  
Credence groans and covers his face which only makes Percy chuckle. “You like it too?”  
  
“Very much. You’ll be doing this to me soon,” Percy says and presses his fingers between Credence’s ass cheeks, the lubricant not as cold as Credence had been expecting it to be.  
  
“Fuck,” Credence whispers as he looks at Percy again. He’s spreading it over Credence’s hole and he bites his lip, grabbing at the sheets again, his cock twitching.  
  
Far better than doing this to himself.  
  
Once Percy has spread it to his satisfaction he slips a finger inside of Credence and Credence moans, trying to keep it quiet. It’s almost impossible when Percy curls his finger and rubs over the area inside him that pushes Credence over the edge so easily, when he’s jerking his cock.  
  
He wants to touch himself, achy with need, but he doesn’t dare to.  
  
“Two,” Credence says hoarsely, once his arms are shaking with the effort not to. “Please, Percy.”  
  
Percy smiles and pulls his finger out and gently presses two in, watching Credence. Credence knows it’s because he’s making sure he’s not hurting him but his gaze is so intense that he has a hard time looking back. He’s too handsome, too attractive, every inch of him. Credence lets his eyes wander, a completely valid excuse to get a moment’s break before Percy makes him come by just looking at him.  
  
There are a few scars on his body, life on a ranch, and he knows what the jagged ones look like on his back. Credence knows none of them were done purposefully but it makes him feel less self-conscious about his own.  
  
They’ve been marked by life in general and yet here they are all the same, still breathing, and finding each other after so long.  
  
 _“Fuck,”_ Credence whines when Percy rubs against him again, his abdomen jumping, and he tilts his head back. “Percy, you feel so good. Oh!” He whimpers as Percy thrusts his fingers in and out, faster, and he looks up at him as he gasps. “More, please, more.”  
  
“Anything for you,” Percy says and his own voice is a bit rougher now, a jolt to Credence’s cock. He gets more lube on his fingers and Credence feels him press three against him, nodding quickly when Percy looks at him.  
  
It’s a nice sort of burn and Credence is only thankfully he’s not completely unpracticed in this, because he remembers it hurting the first few times. But Percy is careful, a slow, gentle glide inside of him, not spreading his fingers until they’re buried in Credence.  
  
Credence curses more loudly but Percy doesn’t shush him. He leans over him instead and kisses Credence, all tongue and a little messy, and it’s a good distraction from the desire to touch himself.  
  
He wraps his arms around Percy’s neck and kisses back as Percy fucks him with his fingers, taking his moans and whimpers, until they finally break apart to breathe. Credence drags his nails across Percy’s back and Percy groans, kissing Credence’s jaw but he’s gone all too soon, sitting up.  
  
“Think you can put your knees over my shoulders?”  
  
“Yes,” Credence croaks. He thinks he must look a mess, sweaty and lips wet, cock leaking on his belly.  
  
“Fuck, Credence. You’re beautiful,” Percy says, so he must like making Credence a mess. He pulls his fingers out and gets the lubricant, getting a generous amount in his palm. He slicks himself up and Credence watches him do it with a moan.  
  
Percy’s cock is as perfect as the rest of him.  
  
Credence moves his knees over Percy’s shoulder and Percy adjusts them to his liking. It’s indecent and obscene, Credence thinks wildly, and possibly the best he’s ever felt in all his life.  
  
Percy presses against Credence and after he’s nodded, he guides himself into him. He’s much bigger and a far different feel than his fingers and Credence winces a little when the head of his cock presses inside. Percy kisses his leg and Credence watches him as he slides ever so slowly inside, almost too slowly.  
  
“Fuck me,” Credence moans by the time he’s pressed against him and he supposes that’s what Percy was waiting for. The sting is gone and Credence is full in a way he never has been. “Please, Percy, move.”  
  
“Shit,” Percy curses, sounding as affected as Credence, and kisses Credence’s leg before he leans forward, pressing his hands into the bed near Credence’s shoulders. He moves then, a few slow thrusts, but it’s not enough.  
  
“Please,” Credence gasps as he grabs onto Percy’s arms, holding them tightly. “It feels so fucking good, Percy, please move.”  
  
Percy does then. He gives Credence exactly what he’s asking for, a hard snap of his hips and Credence forgets to be quiet. Percy fucks him, sharp and quick and he groans Credence’s name as he does.  
  
The bed creaks beneath them and the harsh sound of skin hitting skin is almost overwhelming, but Credence merely holds on and watches Percy, watches the pleasure on his face, his brows furrowed and his mouth open.  
  
Credence moans and they’re becoming more broken, higher, as Percy fucks him. He can feel Percy’s arms trembling with the effort to keep himself up, his muscles tightly corded and Credence digs his nails into his skin.  
  
Percy moans and his thrusts become a little more erratic, but no less powerful. “Fuck, Credence,” he says and it’s as broken as Credence’s voice. “I want to come inside you.”  
  
“Yes!” Credence says and nods quickly. “Fuck, yes, please, come inside me.” He cries out with the next few thrusts, trying to keep his knees over Percy’s shoulders.  
  
They’re both slick with sweat, the July heat not doing them any favors, and everything about this is messy, wet, and Credence plans on asking for it every night.  
  
He watches Percy as he thrusts twice more, then presses flush to Credence, and his face goes slack with his orgasm, with a groan that sounds knocked out of him. His cock is throbbing inside of Credence and the idea of Percy’s come in him is so damn good and Credence’s moan sounds a little more like a sob.  
  
“Percy,” he whispers and gasps when Percy rolls his hips. “Oh… oh, fuck… you feel so good, Percy, coming inside me.”  
  
“Credence,” Percy says when he’s finished and it’s almost reverential, the way he says Credence’s name. He pats his leg until Credence gets the idea and puts his foot back on the bed.  
  
Percy's arm is shaking more now with the effort to keep himself up but he takes Credence’s cock in his other hand and strokes him, only slow and gentle for the first few tugs before he moves faster and he rolls his hips again, while he’s still hard and it’s just what Credence needs.  
  
He comes, hard, his toes curling tight, and he shouts Percy’s name and Percy must like that because he groans every time he does it. Or maybe it’s the way Credence’s is clenching around him with each stripe of come that falls onto his belly.  
  
“Oh, oh… oh fucking hell,” Credence curses when he finishes, looking down at Percy’s hand on his cock, dribbles of his come sliding down over his knuckles.  
  
Percy chuckles, breathless, and lets go of Credence, holding onto his hip. He helps ease Credence’s leg down, which is shaking wildly from the position it was in, and leans down over him.  
  
They kiss, only a little, because they’re both catching their breath, but Percy merely moves on to his chin and jaw and down to the nap of his neck. He presses his head into the pillow and his weight is pleasant against Credence, something he’s never experienced before and he wraps his arms around Percy’s back, to try and keep him there a bit longer.  
  
Credence moves his hands slowly over Percy’s back, feeling the sheen of sweat over it, the harsh texture of his scars, and bites his lip because he thinks he might cry and that certainly won’t do.  
  
Percy lifts his head and looks down at Credence, eyes soft and full of affection and there’s love there. Credence sees it because he feels it too and this time it’s easier to kiss, languid and gentle.  
  
They break apart eventually and Percy eases out of him, looking Credence up and down as he does. He climbs out of bed and Credence basks there, feeling Percy’s come sliding out of him and if he wasn’t so exhausted, it might turn him on again.  
  
Percy comes back with a wet washcloth and once Credence has cleaned up between his legs he asks, “Shower?”  
  
“Yes, please,” Credence says and smiles when Percy chuckles. He takes his offered hand and stands and his legs are surprisingly weak and wobbly. It takes him a moment to pull himself together, feeling thoroughly fucked, and Percy merely watches him with a smile.  
  
They eventually make it into the bathroom and into the shower, keeping the water lukewarm. “You’re lucky,” Percy says as Credence soaps himself down. “I’ve only had indoor plumbing for ten years.”  
  
Credence gapes at him, which makes Percy laugh. “Did you have to heat water over the stove?”  
  
Percy laughs. “Modern world takes a long time to reach us out here in the mountains, Credence,” he says with a smile.  
  
“Thankfully some of it’s here now,” Credence says and grins. “You need a telephone though.”  
  
“They say in the next year or two,” Percy says and chuckles as Credence shakes his head. “Though Hollis might ring me every day for a year after.”  
  
Percy washes Credence’s hair and Credence does the same for Percy, until they’re clean, and they dry off. It’s not hard to get back into bed after, though they mostly stay on the dry side of it, and Credence is glad it’s as big as it is. Room for all of Percy’s pillows, he thinks, with a grin that he hides against Percy’s neck.  
  
“Get some sleep, love,” Percy says and kisses Credence’s forehead.  
  
“Mhmm,” Credence hums tiredly. He bites his lip. “I think I forgot to be quiet.”  
  
“You did,” Percy agrees easily. “But that’s our business.”  
  
“I’m not going to be able to look Miss Hornwall in the eye for a week. She won’t get angry, will she?”  
  
“She knew my preference for men before I did,” Percy says dryly. “She’s been giving me her evil eye to get a move on with you for a while now.”  
  
Credence groans, blushing, but he can’t help but laugh. “Why does she bring up marriage then?”  
  
“The reasons I told you before. It’d bring my name into the light again. And like I told you, I don’t give much of a damn for that. She probably thought it’d make me less lonely too. But now that she knows you’re here to say, I think she might just be satisfied. Finally.”  
  
Credence grins as he looks up at Percy. “About this anyway,” he says. “Thank you for getting a move on.”  
  
Percy laughs and shakes his head. “I think we got there together,” he says and sighs. “Go to sleep, early morning’s come too quick.”  
  
“Alright,” Credence says and leans in to kiss Percy, just once. He gets comfortable then, his arm slung around Percy’s waist and closes his eyes.  
  
It’ll take him longer than Percy to fall asleep, thinking too much about him, about the ranch and the mountains, about everything here that he’s fallen in love with. Horses to call his own, another to help so he might not be so afraid anymore, and the friends he’s made.  
  
Credence can clearly remember the first time he saw Percy, leaning against the door of his truck, eyeing Credence with suspicion, handsome enough to be scared of. Standing on the side of the road with only his small suitcase.  
  
Percy invited him to get in the truck, but he invited him into his life almost as quickly.  
  
It took taking the country roads in West Virginia to find home, but he has now, and it’s the most incredible feeling in the world.  
  
Credence falls asleep to that thought and wakes up to it as well, Percy kissing him awake as the sun begins to rise, all of it so real, not a dream, but a dream come true.  
  
——  
  
The foals grow bigger and stronger, less inclined to stay by their dams over the coming months. They play together, always a fun sight, and they’re as fond of Credence and Percy as they are of them.  
  
Breeding the horses isn’t a particularly fun job, far more work going into it than Credence had really been expecting, but after a while, Percy says they’ll see if any of it took.  
  
Hannah and Stars both show great promise, Stars most of all. He’s Stars and Stripes for when he will race, picked early, and Percy says he’ll probably match Big Blue. They stay down in Richmond with Mister Fontaine, but he comes to pick up Big Blue and Tommy for the fall races, to get them trained up for a month or two, make sure they’re strong and ready for it.  
  
John gets used to Percy sitting with Credence most evenings. He’s a little more embarrassed to talk to John for a while, but he eventually gets used to it, telling him about their days, feeding him oats and sugar cubes. One day he lets Credence rub and scratch his neck, enjoying it immensely.  
  
One day he lets Credence brush him, pressed against the side of the fence.  
  
He still spooks easily and sometimes he gets mean for no reason at all, but it’s becoming few and far between.  
  
Credence knows it’s foolish, that Percy would likely get angry with him if he knew, but when he and Miss Hornwall leave to get hay and groceries in the small town a few miles down the road, Credence gets into the pasture with John.  
  
He stays near the gate, sitting down in the grass, and John stays on the other side of the pasture for a while. But he gets curious, the way he’s been getting curious for months now, and he steadily makes his way over to Credence. Credence doesn’t look at him, only holds up his hand when John is near, until he noses at him.  
  
Credence rubs his nose and smiles and only tries not to cry.  
  
But when John lays next to him, huge and magnificent, shining in the autumn sun, Credence can’t really help it. He lays down next to him, close to his head and rubs his nose, until John’s eyes close and he begins to snore. Credence watches him, tears in his eyes, and hopes John allows this time and time again.  
  
He stays longer than he means to and when he hears the truck, he curses a little, but John doesn’t leap up. He merely sits up with a snort and Credence carefully stands, not moving too fast. John gets up too, but there’s no aggression in him. He walks over to the fence as Percy drives up the road to park in front of the house. Credence walks to the fence too, holding his hat in his hands, and leans against it, smiling when he feels John mouthing at his hair or rubbing his chin against it.  
  
Percy gets out of the truck and stares at them for a while. Miss Hornwall doesn’t make a comment, carrying the groceries inside, but she’s smiling.  
  
Credence pats John’s cheek and gently pushes him when he pulls at the collar of his shirt. He doesn’t get mad, doesn’t put his ears back, merely snorts the way horses do when they’re excited about something.  
  
Percy comes around the truck and leans against it, probably thinking John will spook if he comes near. He might be right but when Credence sees him wipe at his eyes, he desperately wishes for John to allow this with Percy. For them to get as fond of each other as they once were, before the river scarred them both.  
  
Credence gives John a few sugar cubes and leaves the pasture, locking the gate. He moves to Percy and they wrap their arms around each other, and if Percy sniffs, well, Credence only smiles and tells him he loves him.  
  
In mid-September, Percy takes Credence to Richmond. Hollis will be at the ranch for a while, something that really does seem to delight him, but Percy asks the Goldsteins to check on him now and then.  
  
The foals will remain in the barn while they’re gone and Lady will protect the chickens and alert Hollis if anything bigger than a fox comes around. Percy tells Credence he’s probably a better shot than five ranchers combined, even after drinking, and it makes Credence feel a little better.  
  
The track is huge and there are so many people and Credence and Percy are dressed more finely than they’re both comfortable with. Many people give Percy dubious looks, but it’s alright, because he always knows what to say. He’s cutting with the press, with the other owners, and Mister Fontaine is there to scowl at anyone who gets too catty.  
  
They watch Big Blue race and Percy tells him the differences between Blue and John, in their strides, in the way they carry their heads, in the way they respond to the jockey, the same man Percy has had for a long time now.  
  
Big Blue wins, of course, and there are red roses around his neck. Percy gets another trophy and enough money that Credence simply doesn’t think about it, because it’s too much to comprehend. He watches Percy accept all of this while he stands with Mister Fontaine and smiles.  
  
“You got him out here,” Mister Fontaine says. “He told me he was never coming back to a track for the rest of his life. Look at him now.”  
  
“People still don’t like him.”  
  
“No. And they might not ever, but I think Percy’s alright with that. He’s got who he needs.”  
  
And what can Credence say to that?  
  
They go home after a while, because although Percy took him to this race, he doesn’t want to be at all of them. The ranch is in good condition and Hollis seems a little sad to go, mumbling about too many ranch hands, but he refuses a payment and congratulates Percy.  
  
The foals are fine and so is Johnnie Walker, happy to see Credence and Percy.  
  
In the morning, John lets Credence groom him without much fuss at all. They try to put reins on him but he refuses that, over and over, and Percy mentions that he might not ever be a horse to ride again, but maybe one day they’ll get him out into a larger pasture, let him run like he used to, and Credence dearly hopes that day comes.  
  
Winter comes quickly after that and it’s hard to get down the mountain, but Percy and Credence invite the Goldsteins over often. Queenie is engaged and Tina is seeing Newt regularly, and it’s everything Credence ever dared to dream for.  
  
Wrapped in Percy’s arm in front of the fire, with friends who don’t blink an eye, who only laugh and say kind things, and make Credence feel more whole than he already does.  
  
New York seems like a lifetime ago, feeling less real every day, and Credence is glad to leave it behind.  
  
It’s nearing Christmas and Credence finds the winter to be harder work, of course, but there’s something about the mountains blanketed in snow, the horses covered for warmth, that’s as beautiful as it is in the spring and summer.  
  
One night, after spending time with John, Credence sits in the den with Percy. He’s going over the monthly expenses as Credence drinks Miss Hornwall’s warm cider, sitting on the sofa near the fire.  
  
“What happened?” he asks softly.  
  
“Hmm? With what?” Percy asks distractedly.  
  
Credence looks at him and bites his lip. “Here. What happened here to change everything?”  
  
Percy looks at Credence then and peers at him for a while. He smiles, just a little, and leans back in his chair. He seems to be debating how to start and Credence watches him and hopes he hasn’t crossed any lines.  
  
“My father bred the horses here and in Richmond,” Percy says. “The horses he bred here were magnificent. Winners time and time again. The Graves name became immensely popular. The horses he bred down in Richmond were of good stock too. But he started to breed them with trail horses that couldn’t cut it. Family horses. Didn’t tell anyone, just him and his trainer, lied about their lineage. Sold them for thousands when they were just barely yearlings and no one ever placed with them. Pure Thoroughbreds, but if they don’t race, they don’t produce racers. He did it for a long time, selling winners now and then to keep up appearances and telling everyone it’s just what happens in the business.”  
  
Percy looks at the fire and shrugs. “People caught on eventually. Someone got a look at his ledgers because he was foolish enough to write it all down and told the commission about it,” he says. “Fell out of the business with disgrace.”  
  
“Who found his ledgers?” Credence asks. “You wouldn’t think he’d keep them away from home.”  
  
“He didn’t,” Percy says with a grim smile. “I suspected for a while and dug through this very desk one day. Confirmed my suspicions and my sister took the proof to Richmond.”  
  
Credence gapes at him. “Did he know?”  
  
“Of course,” Percy says. “My father despised us from the moment we were born. Threatened to shoot us but my sister put a stop to that by reminding him he’d be executed if he did.”  
  
Credence bites his lip. “Then why was your name stained as black as his? Why didn’t people thank you for bringing it to light?”  
  
“The Graves name was only disgraced and they did thank Eliza, at the beginning. _Stained black_ came shortly after,” Percy says as he looks at the fire again. “My sister died. It was common knowledge all the way down in Richmond that my father thought very little of his children. Rumors spread. Eliza had been the one to show proof, not me, and it didn’t matter that I found it. They only knew Eliza had been the one to turn on him. She died and people accused my father of murdering her.”  
  
Credence stares at him, his heart racing, and pulls his blanket tighter around himself. “But he didn’t,” he says, because he has a feeling that’s true.  
  
“He didn’t,” Percy agrees. “But there was an investigation all the same. Ruled an accident, which it was, but people believe what they want to. She got bucked off a horse and came down on a rock. Everyone said he killed her with his own hand. I look like my father, which didn’t help matters. They turned on me just as much as they turned on him. And when that happened, I found myself with very few friends, a father that drank himself to death within a year, a mother who ran off to God knows where, and a ranch to run on my own because no one dared to come up here. They might not think I’m a murderer like they did him but I’m his blood, a constant reminder to them when they see my face, even though they knew he hated me as much as he hated her. My ledgers are thoroughly inspected by the commission every year and the proof that I breed the best comes from the horses themselves.”  
  
It’s a terrible thing, Credence thinks. A terrible thing to go through, all because of a terrible man and father, and it had cost Percy nearly everything. His entire family gone in a very short while, name disgraced but still sought after all the same.  
  
He wonders if that’s why he hung on to John the way he did. The way he does.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Percy,” Credence says quietly. “I’m so sorry you went through all of that.”  
  
Percy shrugs. “Helped me realize who was in my corner and who wasn’t, in the end,” he says and stands. He walks to the sofa and sits down, wrapping an arm around Credence until he leans against him. “It’s been a long time now. Life is better, easier. Pretty fucking good now too,” he adds with a smile.  
  
Credence smiles back and leans in to kiss his cheek. “You’re a good man,” he says softly. Percy only smiles, a little grimly, and Credence shakes his head. “You are. They think the worst of you because of what he did, knowing you weren’t involved, and they still come to you for horses. They’re dollar signs, not animals to be respected. It shows where their priorities are. You kept Lady when no one else would and you did the same for John. You care about them, all of them. I didn’t see much of that anywhere on my way here. You _are_ a good man, Mister Graves.”  
  
Percy watches Credence and his eyes are soft, tender in the way that makes Credence always fall in love with him, just a little bit more.  
  
“You’re the only opinion I care about,” Percy says. “So I’m glad you think so. An honor to hear it from you, Mister Barebone.” He kisses Credence’s forehead. “Thank you,” he adds more quietly, and a bit more hoarsely.  
  
Credence takes Percy’s cheeks in his hands and kisses him then. Kisses him with all he has, until they’re wrapped tightly around each other, until they lie down on the sofa and tangle their legs together.  
  
“I love you,” Credence whispers when Percy kisses his cheek and further down.  
  
“I love you too,” Percy says, warm and gentle against Credence’s skin.  
  
Credence looks at the large windows, at the snow outside on the window sills, at the stars that shine high in the night sky as he holds Percy.  
  
It will be a breathtaking morning, the mountain peaks thick with soft snow, the horses turned out to run through the pastures, coats shining in the winter sun, bright against the white and grey landscape.  
  
Credence saw the Blue Ridge Mountains for the first time as he sat on a train and he fell in love then with them, when the sun shone and made them golden. He fell in love with West Virginia when he’d stepped off that train and smelled pine and felt his heart right in a way he wouldn’t completely understand for a few months yet.  
  
He stepped off a train and walked down a road leading north and found home waiting for him, in a valley at the base of the Blue Ridge peaks, and in the arms of a man, soft as men should be, where it matters most.  
  
Percy kisses Credence and he closes his eyes and thinks of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive any mistakes, I edited this all today and I'm sure I left some behind.
> 
> I'm not sure if many people will enjoy this (but I hope so!!), but I had an absolute blast writing it, haha! Thank you for reading and if you did enjoy it, I would love, love, love to hear from you.
> 
> Thank you to [Erin](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/angelsallfire) for being as supportive and awesome as always! And to my Mom, for encouraging me and enjoying this fic as I wrote it!!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vtforpedro)


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